


Sleeping Dragon

by pillowcreek



Series: spells from the abyss [1]
Category: The Bridge (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Fluff, Minor Violence, Multi, Triwizard Tournament, Vomiting, how many times can bertie get injured in a 26K fic?, the answer is a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11541300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pillowcreek/pseuds/pillowcreek
Summary: Bertie competes in the Triwizard Tournament. He's really bringing the heat.





	Sleeping Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Rebecca Mahoney's tumblr post about Bertie competing in the Triwizard Tournament (http://cafecliche.tumblr.com/post/162250995434/i-just-thought-of-a-bridge-prompt-and-idk-why-i) 
> 
> CW for anxiety and panic attacks. 
> 
> Naming reference: 
> 
> Wel Brigade - The Welcome Brigade  
> Alyssa Debenham - Challenger Deep

Bertie wasn’t surprised to be greeted by angry yelling when he opened the door to the Room of Requirement. In fact he had been expecting it. The announcement of a Triwizard Tournament at dinner was exactly the kind of exciting opportunity that Etta was into and exactly the kind of near-death experience that Roger was firmly against. Of course it would lead to the two of them getting into yet another fight that students could probably hear on the other side of the castle. 

He took a seat next to Kate on the couch. She had her legs pulled up beside her and was watching the other two intently. “How long have they been at it?” He has to raise his voice slightly to be heard over Roger shouting death statistics. 

“Only a few minutes,” she said, not looking over at him while she spoke. “I think Etta’s about to win though.” 

“Of course she is.” 

Sure enough, the argument ended a minute later when Etta yelled that the only way Roger would be able to keep her from entering was if he chained her to a chair and guarded her for the next 48 hours. Roger sighed and sank into one of the other couches. “Fine.” 

Etta looked taken aback. “Fine?” 

“Fine. You win. I won’t stop you from putting your name in the Goblet. It’s your life and if you want to risk it getting your head bitten off by some Snallygaster, then be my guest.” 

She beamed and plopped down in Kate’s lap. “What about you two? You going to enter?” 

Kate twirled one of Etta’s curls around her finger as she considered. “Might as well. I mean, this is our only chance to do it, right?” 

Roger grumbled something under his breath but the other three ignored him. “Bertrand?” Etta asked. 

He glanced over at Roger nervously. “I don’t know. I mean, Roger does have a point. It’s really dangerous. People die all the time in these, right?” 

“Exactly!” he said loudly. 

Etta threw a pillow at Roger’s head. “Only if they’re stupid about it. They’ve always been one hundred percent preventable accidents.” 

“Oh? Even the time that kid’s legs were eaten by the chimaera?” Roger said. 

“Even then.” 

_“He wasn’t even participating in the tournament!”_

Sensing another fight brewing, Bertie decided to step in. “Besides, I’m not exactly champion material. I’d probably get scared and run off during the first task. And then it’d be Kate’s legs that the chimaera eats.” 

“Thanks Bertie,” Kate said dryly. 

“Any time.” 

“Oh come on Bertrand, it won’t be that bad! You’re plenty brave! You’re in Gryffindor for crying out loud!” 

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly the ideal one, am I?” 

“Bertrand.” Etta gave him her ‘we’re all very disappointed in you and that includes the homeless kitten down the road. You don’t want to disappoint Mr. Snuggles, do you? _Do you?’_ face. 

“Don’t Bertrand me,” he said. “You know it’s true.” 

“Bertie!” This time the aghast came from the other two. 

Bertie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You know what I mean.” 

Etta stood up and placed her hands firmly on her hips. “I couldn’t possibly. Besides, if I’m entering, you’ve got to enter. There’s nothing I can do that you can’t.” 

“Uh, talk for twenty minutes straight about house elf rights?” Roger said. 

“Communicate perfectly with creatures that don’t speak any human language,” Kate added. 

“Spend an entire night in the restricted section and somehow not get caught,” Bertie chipped in. 

“Eat seventeen chocolate frogs in a single sitting and then throw up in your cauldron.” 

“Announce an entire Quidditch match while drunk on firewhiskey before throwing a Quaffle at Nora’s head and yelling the first page of Hogwarts: A History line for line. While still drunk.” 

“Convince the house elves to send up just sweets instead of any actual food for dinner.” 

“Cover the dungeons with green slime because you failed that badly at potions.” 

“Flip off the Care of Magical Creatures OWLs administrator and still pass with flying colours.” 

“Drink more Butterbeer than Percy in under ten minutes.” 

Etta held up a hand before Roger could add another one. “Stop. I get it. I have a very impressive resume. My _point,_ before you three decided to jump in, is that if I can enter the Tournament and kick ass, then you should be able to too. I mean, it's not like it’s all that likely that any of us will be picked, but we might as well try.” 

Bertie considered her point for a moment. “That’s true… And even if I do get picked, I’ll have you three to help me prepare. Right?” He glanced around the room nervously. 

Etta beamed at him. “Definitely!” 

Kate gave him a soft smile. “Of course.” 

They both looked over at Roger. He sighed. “Do you really need me to say it? You know-“ 

“Roger.” Etta said sternly. 

“I _said,_ you know I have your back no matter what, right?” 

“Careful, you might make Bertie cry,” Kate said, a teasing grin on her face. 

Roger rolled his eyes as Etta grabbed Bertie’s hand. “Let’s go then! We’ve only got until tomorrow to submit our names to the Goblet!” 

~~~~~~~~~~

The Great Hall was packed when they got there and they had to push their way through the crowd to get to the Goblet. Some students parted when they noticed that they looked old enough to enter their names (though Roger’s grumpy face and Prefect’s badge probably helped them out at least a little bit in that attempt), but they still ended up having to elbow far too many third years in the ribs just to get by. 

The crowd was a lot less densely packed as they got closer to the Goblet, composed mostly of hopeful seventh years vying for a spot in the competition. Bertie felt the anxiety that had ebbed away as they left the worst of the crowd return as the Goblet came into view. It was taller than he had remembered, and he could feel the heat from the flames even though he knew that they didn’t produce heat. Oh no wait, that was just his anxiety. 

 _I shouldn’t do this,_ he thought. _I should just let Etta have her fun and enter and then we’ll forget about it in a week’s time and go back to having a nice, normal year. Kate and Etta will flirt through all our study sessions, Roger’ll complain about it, and we can pretend that the Triwizard Tournament doesn’t exist._

 _Or maybe that’s not what’ll happen,_ whispered the anxious part of his brain. _Maybe Etta’ll be picked. She’s so smart; she’d be a great champion. And then the entire year will be spent thinking about her strategy and stressing about whether or not she’ll win and in a year’s time you’ll no longer have a best friend because she’ll have been ripped apart by a yeti._

 _Or maybe that won’t be it at all._ The rational part of his brain decided to weigh in on the current dilemma. _Maybe you both enter and neither of you gets chosen and everything’ll just go back to its regularly scheduled programming._

 _Or maybe you get selected._ The anxious part of his brain was back with a fervour. _And then it’s_ your _turn to be eaten by a yeti._

He hadn’t even noticed that he’d stopped walking until Roger turned to check on him. “Bertie?” He walked back towards him. “Bertie, are you alright?” 

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a lot of people.” 

Roger took his hand. “I know. Come on, I’ve got you.” 

Together they walked towards the Goblet where Kate and Etta were already scribbling down their names on pieces of parchment that Etta had torn out of her notebook. Etta gave them an excited grin as they approached. “You need a paper, Bertrand?” 

He nodded. “Yes please.” 

She passed him a torn slip before handing one to Roger. “In case you change your mind.” 

Roger sighed but chose not to respond, instead turning silently to allow Bertie to write on his back. 

“Thanks,” Bertie mumbled as he wrote his name down in his messy scrawl. 

Etta marched up to the Goblet and stepped across the Age Line, her head held high as she confidently tossed her name in. The flames turned bright red for a second before returning to the electric blue colour they usually were. The crowd applauded as she stepped back across and Kate took her place. 

“You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, right?” Roger asked. 

“I want to,” Bertie said, trying to sound convincing and not at all like he was five seconds away from wetting his pants. 

“Are you sure? I can practically feel your anxiety from here.” 

“I’m… I’m sure.” He was not sure. 

Roger sighed. “Would it make you feel better if I did it with you?” 

“What?” He’d zoned out for a moment there, watching Kate join Etta on the other side of the Goblet. They both chattered excitedly as they walked back over to rejoin the boys. 

“If you weren’t putting your name in alone, with all the attention on you and you alone. Would it help if I went with you?” 

“But you don’t want to enter the tournament.” 

“Yeah, but like we’ve been saying all afternoon: it’s not likely that one of us will be chosen. And honestly I think I’m the unlikeliest pick, so I’m willing to make the gamble if it’ll make you feel better.” 

“Are you sure?” Bertie asked. 

“Postive,” Roger replied. 

“I don’t want you to feel forced or like you have to do this for my sake.” 

“Bertie. I want to.” 

“Alright.” He turned around to let Roger write on his back. 

The two of them approached the Goblet together, Roger reaching over and giving Bertie’s hand a quick squeeze when he faltered. “You can always back out,” he said. 

“No. I want to do this. I’ll regret it if I don’t.” 

“Okay. Then let’s do it.” Roger stepped over the Age Line before turning back to face Bertie and holding out his hand to him. “Nice and easy, alright?” 

Bertie gave him a slow nod. “Nothing to it,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. 

He stepped across the line and bit his lip as a cool sensation washed over him. 

“That’s the enchantment,” Roger said. “You’re fine.” 

Bertie gave him a quicker nod this time. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Roger laughed. It was short but oh-so-sweet. “No big moment?” 

“I’d really rather not.” 

Roger looked amused as he tossed his slip of paper up into the Goblet. The flames shot up slightly, turning the same red hot colour as when Etta tossed hers in. Bertie swallowed hard, resisting the urge to flee back across the line. He’d come this far and now he’d pulled Roger into it as well. He had to do this. He had to. 

Bertie stepped up to the Goblet and gently threw the paper with his name on it into the flames. Once again they changed colours as the paper flew in before returning to bright blue. 

Roger reached over and tugged on the sleeve of his uniform. “Come on,” he said. “Etta and Kate’ll be waiting for us.” 

Bertie gave him a small nod and the two of them returned to the other side of the line. 

“You doing okay?” Roger asked. 

“I’m fine,” Bertie replied. “Just glad it’s over with.” 

They reached the others and Etta greeted them with a proud grin. “Bertrand! I can’t believe you convinced Roger to put his name in!” 

“Neither can I,” he said. 

“What happened to it being too dangerous for any of us to be allowed to put our names in?” she teased Roger. 

He shrugged. “I figured I might as well. I mean it’s not like any of us are going to be picked anyways.” 

They would soon find out how wrong he was. 

~~~~~~~~~

The House tables were overflowing due to the need to fit the students from the other wizarding schools into the Great Hall. As if this wasn’t bad enough, Bertie found himself the new friend of a very loud, very talkative student from Dumstrang. _Frank._  

Frank wasn’t that bad in small doses. He was typically fairly nice and could be funny at times. But when you’re stuck sitting next to him at every meal and his loud voice ended up being right in your ear because of how close everyone had to sit and you’ve got some other random Dumstrang girl’s elbow jabbing you in your ribcage? 

Yeah, Frank wasn’t so enjoyable then. 

Currently Frank was loudly quizzing him about his friends, particularly Etta. He seemed to have taken a shine to her after learning that she was interested in history, especially since he knew next to nothing about Hogwarts and she knew, well, everything. Bertie tried to answer to the best of his ability but he was getting progressively more uncomfortable as the Dumstrang girl turned around in her seat and her elbow rammed even deeper into his stomach. He briefly thought about asking her to move, but then quickly reconsidered when he remembered that doing so would require talking to a stranger and asking them to move. What if she got angry or upset? And it wasn’t like she could really do anything, they were all uncomfortable and squashed in like sardines so what would that even accomplish? 

He was knocked out of his panicked thoughts when Alyssa Debenham, the Hogwarts Headmaster, walked up to the podium. A hush fell over the room as she began to speak. 

“We will now be picking the Triwizard Tournament champions. There will be one Champion chosen from each school currently present. If your name is called, please go through the back door-” here she gestured to the fancy golden door behind the Head Table, “-where you will receive the instructions and rules for the Tournament.” 

Frank gave Bertie what he was sure Frank considered to be a gentle nudge but what felt to Bertie like a rough shove. It only served to further damage his ribs with the girl’s elbow. “You put your name in, right?” 

“Yeah.” He barely had time to finish the word before Frank was talking again. 

“Good, because this is one of those opportunities that you do _not_ want to miss out on. I mean the money’s pretty sweet, but you also get like, super famous, so… You don’t want to miss out on this.” 

“Sure.” 

Debenham reached the Goblet, whose flames had dulled to a light yellow and seemed to be momentarily calmer than they had been for the last few days. But the second that her hand touched the side of the Goblet, the flames switched to a deep orange. A slip of paper flew out the top of the Goblet, lightly singed around the corners. 

“The Beauxbatons champion,” Debenham read, “is Wel Brigade!” 

A series of hoots and hollers came from the Ravenclaw table as the girl stood up and walked to the front. She had long brown hair, light skin, and a scar that cut through her right eye. She radiated an air of confidence, as though she had no doubts that she would be chosen and had already prepared a speech for when she won the tournament. Bertie had never spoken to her personally, but Etta had. She hadn’t said much about her, only shuddered and called her creepy. 

Yeah, she was probably going to win. 

As soon as Wel was through the door, Debenham touched her hand to the Goblet again. The flames glowed a sharp green, the same shade as a sour apple, and a paper drifted down, half on fire. 

Debenham quickly put out the fire before squinting at the paper, trying to make out the writing. “It appears that the Dumstrang champion is Frank Hayward.” 

Frank whooped loudly and leapt up from his seat, clapping Bertie hard on the back. “See? What’d I tell ya, man?” He gave the Dumstrang girl a high five before practically running up to the front and through the golden door. 

Debenham pressed her hand to the Goblet again and the final slip of paper soured out. The Hogwarts champion. The one that would be representing them all. Bertie held his breath, unsure whether or not he should be hoping for Etta’s name to be read out. 

“Bertrand Renard.” 

Wait, what now?

He sat there for a few seconds, stunned, as the rest of the Gryffindor table turned to stare at him. They all seemed just as shocked as he was. _Did that actually just happen?_

The silence was finally broken by a loud wolf whistle from the Ravenclaw table. “That’s my boy!” Etta yelled. 

Okay, that definitely just happened. 

Bertie stood up slowly, feeling the familiar heat of anxiety creep up his neck as he walked towards the front of the room. Debenham was staring at him and he could practically hear her thoughts. _Him? The weak Gryffindor? Really?_

He didn’t want to look at the other teachers out of fear that the same thought would be written across all of their faces. _Not him. Anyone but him. We’re doomed. No chance. None at all._

It was a relief when the door closed behind him and he could sag back against it, knees finally giving out after the long walk to the front. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stand up in front of all those people in some kind of competition. That was what Etta was good at: wowing people and making them love her. He was better at small group interactions, like maybe if it was just a classroom contest he would be okay, but a whole crowd? That was three schools out there. It was practically three crowds. 

He was going to be sick. 

But he couldn’t be sick. Not now. He had to go find Frank and Wel, go get their instructions. Find out what happened next. 

He couldn’t do the next bit though. He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t _brave_ enough. 

 _Such a crappy, crappy Gryffindor,_ he thought. _That’s what they’ll all say when they see how quickly I’ll fall apart._

Maybe he could drop out. 

But he wasn’t allowed to. Hadn’t that been one of the rules that Debenham had stated? Once you were chosen, you had to compete? 

Bertie forced himself off of the wall. He had to do this. Anxiety and weakness be damned. He was chosen and now he had to compete in this tournament. He’d just do his best and no one could fault him for that, right? If it wasn’t something that he could win, then it wasn’t something that he could win. 

He pushed the thought of being mauled by a Nundu out of his mind for the moment. He’d deal with that later. For now, he just needed to focus on going and meeting Frank and Wel. He could do that. It was easy… right? 

The hallway lead to a room full of portraits where both of the other champions were waiting. Wel looked bored, but Frank was staring at her with so much terror that Bertie was certain that she must have just eaten a child. He looked up as Bertie entered the room and his face split into a beam. 

“Bertie! You’re the Hogwarts champion?” 

“Looks that way,” he said. 

“Sweet!” Bertie took a seat next to him and Frank leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Have you spoken to Wel yet? She’s fucking _scary,_ man.” 

“Aw come on, Frank. She can’t be that bad,” Bertie whispered back. 

“Did you know that you can live for weeks with frostbitten fingers?” Wel wasn’t looking at them: instead she was staring into the corner of the room. “They have to wait to see if the rewarming process will work before amputating them. You could live for weeks in excruciating pain.” She looked over at them. “It’s amazing what the human body can endure, isn’t it?” 

Bertie swallowed hard. “Okay, I see what you mean.” 

The door opened and the headmasters from all three schools walked in, followed by Lamar, the ambassador from the Ministry. The other two headmasters congratulated their champions while Debenham studied Bertie, still looking bemused. 

“Why don’t we just jump into things then, hm?” Lamar says. “The first task has been designed to test your daring, so you will have no knowledge of what it is prior to the event. It will take place on November twenty-fourth in front of the students and a panel of judges. You will receive your instructions for the next task upon your completion of the first. Understood?” 

They all nodded in agreement. The headmasters lead their students out, Wel ignoring both boys while Frank gave Bertie a cheerful wave and some kind spirited but loud well wishes, and then Bertie was left alone with Debenham. He half expected her to give him some empty words of praise, but instead she just stared at him. “Well? What are you waiting for?” 

“Huh?” 

“What are you waiting around here for? Shouldn’t you be off celebrating with your house or something?” 

“Oh, uh, yes. Sorry.” Bertie hurried out of the room. 

He was just leaving the Great Hall when he was practically barrelled over by an enthusiastic hug from Etta. “Bertrand! You did it! I can’t believe it!” 

He gave her a small smile. “Yeah. Me neither.” 

“Congratulations Bertie,” Kate said. She was standing behind Etta with Roger, who gave him a small nod when he met his eyes. 

“Nice job,” he said. 

“Thanks guys.” 

“Do you know what your first task is yet?” Etta asked. 

Bertie shook his head. “They’re not telling us. Something about testing our daring. Not that I have any of that, of course.” 

“What do you mean? Of course you do!” 

He shook his head again. “I’m not exactly the ideal Gryffindor, Etta. I don’t know why the Goblet would even choose me, I’ll probably die in the first task.” 

“Bertie. Really?” Kate said. “You’ve got to start believing in yourself more.” 

“I do believe in myself. I believe that I’m going to die.” 

“Bertie.” Roger looked disappointed, as though he had just majorly let him down in some way. 

“What? It’s true. We all know it is.” 

“Betrand Renard. I can’t believe you’d just give up on yourself so easily.” Etta said, hands on her hips. It made her look a lot taller than her measly 5 foot 3 inches. “Or have you already forgotten what I told you on the first day of school?” 

 _Courage is doing the thing even if you’re crying and shaking. Besides, you’re here aren’t you? You’re obviously good enough._ “Of course I haven’t, but that doesn’t mean that I can do this. Some fancy words aren’t just going to turn me into a hero.” 

“You’re already one. The Goblet knows it, and we do too. It’s just convincing you that’s the problem.” 

“And everyone else in the school.” 

Etta rolled her eyes. “Screw everyone else!” she said. “Both the Sorting Hat and the Goblet have said that you’re brave and daring. The Goblet even chose you as the best wizard out of everybody! So they can go suck it if they don’t like it. They’ll see how wrong they were when you’ve kicked everyone’s asses and won the Tournament.” 

“Etta, listen. I appreciate the-“ 

“No, _you_ listen. You can do this thing, okay? You’re better than everybody else here. It’s just taking you a while to realize it so I’m telling you. You’re smarter than the others, you’re braver than them, and you’re _stronger_ than them. You can make it through anything that you want to. Okay?” When he didn’t answer she glared at him. _“Okay?”_

“Okay,” he muttered. 

Etta immediately brightened back up again. “Good. Now let’s start talking strategy.” 

“How? I haven’t been told what my task is going to be yet.” 

Kate shrugged. “It shouldn’t be too hard to guess. I mean, it’s a tournament right? So it’ll probably be some kind of duel. We’ve just got to get you good at duelling. You can practice on us.” 

Roger looked unsure. “Are you sure that’s the best way to prepare him? What if it’s not-“ 

She cut him off with a raised hand. “Requirement Room tomorrow after class. We’ve got a lot of work to do.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks passed in a haze of classes and practice duels. It wasn’t that hard to beat Etta; Bertie had done it before and they were around the same skill level. The other two had proven to be much more challenging to beat, as they both duelled regularly and could see his attacks coming from a mile away. Making his moves more subtle was what Bertie had to work on the most. He was decent enough at the actual act of casting spells, but he was always too obvious about what he was going to do next. 

He was also too predictable, according to Kate, who was the only one he had yet to beat after disarming Roger at yesterday’s practice. Bertie had been surprised when Roger had actually looked somewhat pleased when his wand had flown out of his hand. Or at least, as pleased as Roger could ever look. Which was to say not very much at all. The emotion was there, just not the expression, and that was enough for Bertie. 

The major downside to that victory was that he was now stuck facing down Kate over and over again for the last couple of days before the first task. Kate, who was smart, fast, and brutal. Kate, who managed to knock him over on his ass in about thirty seconds every time. 

Sure, he got to duel one of the other two on occasion to make sure that he was still able to beat them, but that didn’t exactly make his ass feel any better after the practices. 

He was currently lying flat on his back, rendered immobile by a particularly good jinx from Kate. It had come directly after a bolt of white light that had knocked him over, a dual combination that he was sure would have impressed even some pros. “Come on Bertie, are you even trying?” she asked. 

“Is it really that bad?” Etta asked. “Maybe you’re just like, really amazing at duelling.” 

“Okay first of all, thanks babe. I appreciate your belief in me. But he’s probably going to be facing down a much harder opponent than me in the tournament and he’s got to be ready.” 

“Maybe it won’t be that bad though,” Etta said. “Maybe he’ll just be duelling, like, Frank or something.” 

“You realize that Frank was also chosen for the tournament?” Roger said. “He’s probably much better at magic than you’re giving him credit for.” 

“I dunno, have you seen him in class?” Kate asked. “He seems pretty clueless most of the time.” 

“Maybe that’s his strategy. Seem really bad at magic and then completely destroy everyone in the first task.” 

Etta scoffed. “You really think he’s smart enough and forward-thinking enough to plan that one out?” 

“That’s what I’m _saying._ We don’t know how smart he really is.” 

“And you’re ignoring Wel completely,” Kate added. “How much do we know about her?” 

“Not much. She seems pretty strong though,” Roger said. 

“Uh, guys? Do you think we should unparalyze Bertie?” Etta said, concerned.

“Oh shoot, right,” Kate said. A second later, Bertie felt his muscles relax and he could move again. 

He sat up. The other three were all watching him carefully, concerned. Roger and Etta both sat on one of the sofas, their homework spread out in front of them on the table. Kate stood off to the side, her index finger tapping lightly against her chin as she thought. 

“Maybe we should change our approach,” she said. 

“What? Now?” Bertie asked, startled. “But we’re only two days away from the first task!” 

“I know, that’s why I think we need to change it. It’s based around one thing being the task and there’s an infinite number of things that they could throw at you.” 

“What do you think we should change it to then?” he said. 

“I’m not sure… I just feel like we’re sending you in unprepared.” 

“I think you’d feel like that no matter what,” he pointed out. 

Kate gave him a small smile. “That’s true.” 

“I just wish we knew what it was, y’know?” Etta piped up from the sofa. “If we knew what it was then we’d know for sure if you were prepared enough for it.” 

“Maybe that’s the point,” Roger said. They all looked over at him, confused. He sighed. “Well they said that they wanted to test your daring, right? Maybe the entire point is to see how you react on impulse, how you respond to unknown variables and how big a chance you’re willing to take. It might be better if you’re not expecting anything so that you have less to panic about when it turns out to not be what you were expecting it to be.” 

Bertie considered that last part. It was true that he tended to react more emotionally when things didn’t go according to plan - thanks anxiety - and having no plan meant that there was no way for things to fall apart. It also meant that there was no way to be prepared and plan ahead for the next couple of days, but that might be better than panicking on the day of and getting himself killed because the task wasn’t what he had been expecting it to be and he didn’t know what to do. Going in there with no semblance of a plan meant that there was no reason to panic when he had no idea what to do. 

“You have a point,” he said. 

Roger rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. You just have to think about what the task is actually asking you to do. I tried to tell you that the first night,” he said with a pointed glance at Kate, “but you wouldn’t listen. Probably would have saved you a hell of a lot of anxiety too.” 

“And you didn’t think to mention it in the weeks since then?” Kate asked. 

He shrugged. “Would you have listened? Besides, duelling practice is still useful for him. It may come in handy during the task.” 

Bertie collapsed on the couch next to Roger and Etta. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” 

Etta patted his shoulder. “That’s the spirit. A nice and positive attitude.” 

Bertie groaned into his arms. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning of the first task dawned gray and cloudy, the ground wet from last night’s rain. Bertie sat on a bench outside the greenhouses, his stomach twisted into knots. He had no idea what to expect that afternoon and was well aware that he could end the day with broken legs, or a missing limb, or even dead. He was really trying not to think about the latter option.

“Bertie?” He looked up at Kate’s voice. She was standing at the end of the path leading down from the castle, bundled up in her Slytherin scarf and a warm cloak. She was looking at him with worry in her eyes, as though she were scared that he might burst into tears any second now. 

“Kate? What are you-“ 

“I volunteered to come looking for you. The other two have been freaking out a little bit ever since you didn’t show up for breakfast.” 

Bertie ducked his head. “I’m not hungry.” 

“Too bad, you still need to eat to have energy for the task.” 

“You don’t understand. I’ll be sick if I eat.” 

“Doubtful. You’re probably only feeling that way _because_ you haven’t eaten yet today. Also the anxiety.” 

“Yeah, I think it’s mostly the anxiety.” 

Kate shrugged and took a seat next to him on the bench. “You never know.” 

“In this case? I really think I do.” 

“So what’s the problem?” He stared at her. She looked confused. “What?” 

“What’s the problem? I’m about to have to go and complete a dangerous task that I might _die_ doing, and I have no idea what it is or how to beat it. That’s the problem,” he said bitterly. 

“Yeah, but you’ve known about that for weeks. Why the sudden stress out?” 

Bertie sighed. “I dunno, I guess it’s just all finally settling in. I mean, I knew how dangerous it was, and I’ve stressed about it before, but now it just feels so much more real. Like it was all just a dream before and I was going to wake up any minute.” 

“You never know, there’s still time,” Kate said. “Should I pinch you? See if that works?” 

That managed to get a small laugh out of Bertie. “You know what I mean.” 

She smiled at him. “Yeah, I do. And I also know that you’ve got nothing to worry about. They’ve taken all kinds of safety measures. This isn’t one of Roger’s horror stories: they’re being smart about it. You’ll be perfectly safe.” 

“But what if I fail?” 

“You won’t,” she said simply. 

“But what if I do?” 

“Then you laugh and shake it off.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” Bertie said. 

“I know,” Kate said. “But I also know that you’re one of the bravest people I know and if anyone could make a complete and utter fool of himself in front of the entire school and then keep going it’d be you.” 

Bertie felt his ears turn red. “I really don’t think I’m as brave as you all keep saying I am.” 

“That’s because you’re completely clueless to your own strengths. You just need to believe in yourself a little bit more. If you do I’m sure you’ll see just how awesome you are.” 

He didn’t feel it but it was still nice to hear someone tell him that. “Thanks Kate.” 

“No problem, dweeb.” She stood up. “We should get back up to the castle. I’m sure Etta and Roger have successfully managed to complete freaking the fuck out, so we’ll probably have to put their minds at ease.” 

“Were they really that upset? I mean, Etta I get, but Roger?” 

Kate scoffed. “Yeah, he’s kind of a giant sap when it comes to you two. Just pretend you don’t know though, he’s got a reputation to uphold.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bertie didn’t think that he had ever felt as anxious as he did when he said goodbye to his friends after lunch and began the long walk towards the champions’ tent. It felt as though his stomach was trying to crawl its way out of his throat, like he was about to have a heart attack, die, and burst into tears all at the same time. The latter seemed increasingly more likely as he got closer to the tent and further away from the possibility of running far, far away from this problem. 

Wel and Frank were both already in the tent. Wel was sitting on one of the provided bences and was staring up at the ceiling, looking rather bored, though Bertie noticed that she was clutching the bench so hard that her knuckles were turning white. 

Frank on the other hand, looked like he was about five seconds away from hurling. It made Bertie feel a hell of a lot better about his own nerves, though he immediately felt guilty for it. Frank was obviously very nervous and he should do something to comfort him. 

Or he could go sit in the corner and focus on not shitting himself. 

Yeah, the second option sounded much better. 

The three of them sat there in silence for a while as the rest of the students filed down from the castle and into the stands. What seemed like a second after Bertie arrived to the tent but was really more like half an hour, Lamar entered with a small silk bag in one hand and a large grin on his face. 

“Are you all ready and excited to hear about what your first task will be?” he asked them. 

Wel shrugged, Bertie gave him a small nod, and Frank managed to squeak out a quiet yes. 

“Wonderful! Your task is to retrieve the golden egg,” Lamar begins, and Bertie finds himself thinking, _Okay, that doesn’t sound_ too _bad,_ before he continues talking and Bertie feels like he might actually die of anxiety. “This egg is guarded by a ferocious beast: the legendary _dragon.”_

“Wait, what?!” Frank’s squeak had gotten a little louder. “A dragon? We have to fight a dragon? Can you actually make us do that? Can they make us do that?” he asked Wel and Bertie. 

Bertie was shaking too hard to respond, but Wel shrugged. “Their tournament, their rules I guess.” 

Frank groaned. “I mean, I’ve fought magical creatures before, but a _dragon?_ Really?” 

“Yes Mr. Hayward, _really._ Now,” he held out the bag to them, “you’ll each choose a small model of the dragon you will face, along with the order you’ll battle them in. Who wants to go first?” 

Wel stepped forward. “No use in waiting,” she said. 

She reached into the bag and pulled out a black dragon with ridges down its spine and a pointed tail. It had a small sign around its neck with the number 3 on it. 

Lamar let out a sympathetic hiss. “The Hebridean Black. Nasty creature, that one. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with it though.” 

Wel lifted the dragon so that it was level with her face. It breathed the smallest puff of smoke at her. She smirked. “Doesn’t look so tough.” 

Lamar handed the bag out towards the boys. Bertie, taking sympathy on Frank but also not wanting to get stuck with the most dangerous dragon, picked his next. He came up with a small dragon that stumbled around on his hand as though it were about to tip over and fall asleep any second. It was green in colour and had two small horns atop its head, which only added to its adorable appearance. The number around its neck read 2. 

“The Welsh Green. Very common around these parts, I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” Lamar said. Bertie nodded and Lamar held out the bag to Frank. “You’re the last one my boy, but it looks like you’ll be going in first after all. Only one dragon left.” 

Frank took a deep breath and plunged his hand into the bag. The dragon he pulled out had pearl white scales and multi-coloured eyes. It lumbered around his hand lazily, sniffing the air around it. 

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” Lamar said. “Considered to be the most beautiful of all dragons. A very docile creature, doesn’t interact with humans much. But that doesn’t mean she won’t bite ya!” he joked, and Frank turned green. 

“Well, no use standing around! Let’s get you out to that dragon!” Lamar took Frank by the shoulder and marched him out of the tent. Frank had just enough time to shoot Bertie a desperate look before he was gone. 

Bertie collapsed onto one of the benches. A dragon. A _dragon._ Duelling was one thing, but getting an egg out of a dragon’s nest? It wasn’t as if he could disarm it, it shot fire from its mouth. He was doomed. He was doomed, that was all there was to it. He’d be burned alive and that would be the end of it. No more Bertie Renard. 

He buried his head between his knees. He couldn’t afford to let himself get bogged down by anxiety. Not now. Not when he had to come up with a plan for how to defeat a dragon in… well… however long it took Frank to fight it. 

Bertie wondered what the other two were thinking of. Frank was probably entering the arena around now, if the cheers and gasps coming from the stands were anything to go by. His brain was probably in hyper gear trying to think of what he was going to do to get the egg. Bertie certainly didn’t envy him for having no time to prepare for the task. They really should have given him _some_ time. It didn’t exactly seem fair. 

Wel, on the other hand, had begun pacing the tent, muttering under her breath. Bertie didn’t try to make out what she was saying: he doubted it would help and he had a feeling that he wouldn’t like what he heard. 

About twenty minutes later, Bertie heard the crowd burst into cheers and Lamar’s call for the judges’ scores. He felt his body relax: Frank had gotten past the dragon. 

And then it hit him. 

Frank had gotten past the dragon. 

It was his turn now. 

Sure enough, a whistle blew and Lamar shouted for him to come on out. 

Bertie got up slowly, removing his wand from his cloaks as he did so. Wel looked over at him. “Good luck,” she said. 

He gave her a shaky nod. “Yeah. You too.” 

And then he stepped out to face the dragon. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk from the champions’ tent to the stadium was probably the longest Bertie had ever taken, despite it only being a couple hundred feet or so. But eventually he reached the entrance to the stadium and stepped through it slowly, hoping to put off the whole “facing a dragon” thing for as long as possible. 

The enclosure was filled with rocks and boulders, lots of places to hide. Lots of places for a dragon to grab a foothole on. Bertie thought back to the tiny dragon sleeping in the champions’ tent. He just had to focus on that. That was what he had to face. Just a gentle, adorable looking dragon that only wanted to curl up on his shoulder and take a nap. 

And then he saw the dragon. 

It looked like the dragon in the tent. Just a really, really, really, _really_ large version of it. It let out a roar when it saw Bertie and he swallowed hard. Just a really large, loud, _terrifying_ version of the adorable sleeping dragon. Great. Yeah. He could do this. Totally. 

He began creeping forward, looking around for the golden egg. He spotted it in the dragon’s nest, mixed in with the rest of her eggs. Which were, of course, all directly at her feet. He wouldn’t be able to luck out just by ducking in fast and grabbing the egg from the opposite side of the enclosure from her. He’d need a plan. 

Bertie realized too late that maybe he should be doing his planning somewhere hidden, like behind one of the many rocks. Instead he realized this fact when the dragon shot a narrow stream of fire directly towards him and he just barely managed to dive out of the way in time, falling to the ground and scrapping up his hands and arms. Luckily he didn’t break his wand. 

He scrambled to his feet and began running for the cover of one of the nearby rocks. The dragon let out another stream of fire, this one catching his sleeve on fire. Bertie let out a scream of pain and tried to put out the fire with a water charm as quickly as he could while still running for the cover of the rocks. He managed to get there just before the next batch of fire came, and the flames shot out on either side of the rock he was hiding behind. 

Bertie sat there for a minute, panting and trying to think up something to do. On the other side of the rock, the dragon growled and stomped around. He could hear the clanking of the chain that was preventing her from getting any closer to him. Occasionally she would let out a burst of fire that would scorch the rock and raise the temperature of the air to boiling. 

Bertie knew that he couldn’t stay there for much longer but he wasn’t sure what to do next. He could run to a different set of rocks, one that wasn’t already half burnt and burning hot, but that wouldn’t get him any closer to grabbing the egg. It would just make him look weak and afraid. He needed a plan of attack. 

But what could he do? He couldn’t put out the fire or make the dragon smaller to take away the danger. Putting her to sleep ran the risk of crushing the eggs, and there was no way to get her to move away from the eggs unless she was chasing after him. 

Unless he could get her to move off the eggs in a way that wouldn’t put him at risk. Some sort of motivation. What could she possibly want though? 

Another burst of flames came, this time from a slightly different angle, one that singed his ankles. Bertie cursed and pulled his legs closer to his stomach, wincing from the pain in his arm and legs as he moved. He needed to act fast before he ended up getting fried to a crisp. And judging by the pain in his ankles, sprinting to another set of rocks was out of the question. 

What could get the dragon to move though? Maybe something that she didn’t already have? Some sort of food? But would she really leave her eggs for food when there was a threat nearby? 

And that was when it dawned on him. 

Her eggs. 

That was what was motivating her. 

And that was how he was going to win this thing. 

Bertie twisted around so that he was facing one of the other rock groups and cast a transfiguration spell, turning it into a nest of green-flecked dragons eggs. Welsh Green eggs, to be exact. 

He grinned as the dragon let out an upset roar and lumbered over towards the other nest. Now was his chance. All Bertie had to do was dart in and snatch up the golden egg while the dragon was distracted. Nothing to it. 

Or at least that was what he thought before he stood up and came to the sudden, painful realization that his ankles were still badly burnt and walking, let alone running, would be very painful and very hard. 

He may have come to said conclusion when he fell over with a loud yelp. 

A loud yelp that definitely caught the dragon’s attention. 

The dragon that now had a very clear shot at Bertie’s entire body. 

He could hear Lamar shouting something at one of the dragon handlers as he raised his wand and muttered, “ _Baubillious._ ” A second later, white light shot from the tip of his wand and hit the dragon directly in the neck. She let out an angry roar and reared back on her hind legs, crushing some of the fake eggs. 

Bertie couldn’t help but smile slightly. Yes, this. This he could do. This is what he had spent three weeks training to do. It was duelling. Just duelling with a very large, very angry dragon. 

So basically just Kate when she didn’t get her morning coffee. 

The dragon began to stumble towards him, and Bertie lifted himself up onto his good arm, taking his wand into his other hand. _“Epoximise!”_

The dragon suddenly found herself unable to move as her feet got stuck to the ground. She let out an angry roar before releasing another jet of flames in Bertie’s direction. He rolled out of the way quickly, the fire just barely catching his shoulder. Bertie grit his teeth to hold back a scream of pain as he put pressure on his injured arm by rolling even further to put out the fire. He tried to stop himself from rolling over into the moat surrounding the arena, but he soon found himself toppling over into it. 

He lay there for a minute, gasping in pain. The dragon was still roaring loudly above him, and he could hear the telltale sound of flames shooting into the air, but none of them seemed to be going anywhere near him. She couldn’t see him in while he was in the moat; it was just deep enough to hide him. 

Bertie grinned slowly before rolling over onto his stomach. It would take him a while to get around the enclosure, but he could do it. 

He slowly began dragging himself along with his good arm, gritting his teeth in pain to keep the dragon from hearing where he was. Bertie needed her to have no idea about his location so that she wouldn’t know when or where he came out of the moat. Luck, it seemed, was on his side for the moment. 

Almost ten minutes later and he had finally reached the other side of the enclosure. And now came the hard part. Bertie cast a quick disillusionment charm on himself and then began to climb out of the moat. 

In reality, it probably only took Bertie a minute or two to get out, but the pain in his arm made it seem like years. He had to keep pausing as his vision went white with pain and it became harder and harder not to scream. 

Finally, _finally,_ he made it back out on top. The dragon was still on the other side of the enclosure, her claws stuck to the ground as she roared angrily. The nest of eggs was about a dozen feet ahead of him. Just a dozen feet. He could cross that. Just a dozen more feet. 

Bertie began dragging himself towards the nest slowly, his entire body screaming out in pain. This was ridiculous. He had one limb that hadn’t been burnt. How was he going to get the egg from the top of the nest? Presumably they’d enchanted it so that there was no way to just _accio_ it, and he was too heavy to crawl up the nest without damaging the eggs, even if they were dragon’s eggs. Maybe he could move them out of the way as he went? If he approached from the opposite side as the dragon, she wouldn’t notice the disturbance. And he could probably move them easily enough using magic. 

Bertie kept crawling. He was almost there now. Almost. Just a few more feet. He kept his gaze focused on the golden egg and tried to block out anything else. It was just him and the egg. And he was almost at the egg. And once he reached the egg it would all be over. The first task would be done. 

He reached the nest and began levitating the eggs out of the way, careful not to break any of them as he set them down. The golden egg shifted, rolling down the nest slightly as the eggs underneath it were removed. Bertie grinned as an idea struck him. He didn’t have to go to the egg: he could make the egg come to him. 

He continued to remove the eggs directly underneath the golden one, his grin widening as the egg got closer and closer to being within his reach. Almost there… 

And then suddenly it was. He could reach out and grab hold of the egg, roll it the rest of the distance towards him. He let the disillusionment spell fall away as he rolled onto his back, holding the egg close as he did so. Finally. Finally. 

_Finally._

Lamar was shouting excitedly in the stands, but all Bertie cared about was the handlers subduing the dragon as a couple of professors rushed in to help him out of the enclosure. The pain in his arm and ankles was excruciating, but he couldn’t care less at that moment. He had the egg. He did it. 

He had passed the first task. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bertie was lying on a cot in the medical tent, his arm and ankles covered in a thick orange paste, when the other three burst in. Etta was in tears as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “I thought you were going to die!” 

“I thought so too for a minute there,” he replied, reaching up with his good hand to stroke her hair. 

Kate looked stunned. “Bertie, that was incredible! You just faced a dragon lying down! And you _won!”_

“I couldn’t have done it without your help. It was only because of our duelling that I knew _baubillious.”_  

“But you just used it on a _dragon!_ That was amazing!” 

Bertie ducked his head, blushing. “Thanks.” 

“You were so brave…” Etta mumbled. “So good…” 

His blush deepened. “I sure didn’t feel brave. I was terrified.” 

“You didn’t look it,” Roger said, speaking up for the first time since entering the tent. Bertie looked up him. He was watching him with the same neutral expression that he normally wore, but Bertie could see the fear in his eyes. He had been terrified too. 

“I didn’t even have the most dangerous dragon,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “Wel got that one, it had spikes on its back and everything. Mine just had a couple of horns.” 

“Bertie, it was breathing fire at you,” Kate said. “I don’t think there’s an option there for “not totally badass.”” 

“I almost died at least five times.” 

“You almost died at least five times!” Etta wailed. 

“Etta, this was your idea,” Bertie said.  

“I know, and it was a terrible idea! We should have listened to Roger! Roger was totally right!” 

They all stared at her, stunned, though none looked as stunned as Roger himself. “Did you just say that I was right?” 

Etta sniffled. “Maybe. Just this once.” 

The fabric at the mouth of the tent shifted as the nurse stepped through. “You must go get your scores now,” she said. “They need to give them to you before Miss Brigade can enter the stadium.” She looked at Kate and Roger. “Would you two be able to help him walk? His ankles are badly burnt and likely won’t heal for a few hours.” 

The two of them nodded and helped Bertie to his feet. Slowly but surely they made their way back to the main enclosure where the judges were waiting to give their scores. 

The Dumstrang headmaster went first. A long silver ribbon shot out of her wand before twisting itself into the number 2. Bertie groaned and dropped his head as the other three yelled out indignant protests on his behalf. 

“Probably because I took so long and still got so bloody injured…” he muttered. 

“Or she’s just a bitch,” Etta said. 

 _“Etta,”_ Roger said sharply. 

“Shush, Debenham is giving her score,” Kate scolded them. 

“They don’t even say anything?” Etta muttered in confusion as Debenham raised her wand. A silver six floated out of it. 

The Ministry’s second representative went next. Bertie held his breath. A five. 

“Come on, he deserves at least an eight for that,” Etta grumbled. “What’s with all these low scores?” 

“I did get beaten up pretty badly,” Bertie said. “And I took a really long time and didn’t really do much that was interesting to watch.” 

“Bertie, you literally just _dueled_ a _dragon,”_ Roger said. “I think that was more than enough excitement for everyone.” 

Beauxbatons’ headmaster was up next. He paused for a moment before giving his score: a seven. 

“Better, better… Come on Lamar, you know what to do…” Etta muttered. 

Lamar shot off his score. Another six. 

Bertie couldn’t help but sag slightly in disappointment as Etta complained loudly. Kate, who was supporting his uninjured side, gave him a reassuring nudge. 

“Don’t take it too hard,” she said. “You did really amazing out there. They were just really tough.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” he said glumly. 

“We have to get out of the enclosure so they can bring in the dragon,” Roger said. “Come on, I’ll sneak into the kitchens and get you some chocolate.” 

That perked Bertie back up again. “And ice cream?” 

He let out a small laugh. “Yeah, and ice cream.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They decided to hold off until the day after the first task to open the egg. The four of them gathered in the Room of Requirement, Bertie laying on one of the couches as his ankles were still pretty painful. He balanced the egg on his stomach, nervously drumming his fingers against its side as he considered the latch. 

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Roger asked. 

“I’m, I’m not sure. I guess… I guess I’m just scared of what it will be,” Bertie said carefully. 

“What could be worse than a dragon?” 

“Two dragons,” Etta said. 

“Three dragons,” Kate added. 

“Four dragons,” Bertie decided to get in on the fun. 

“Five dragons.”

“Six dragons.” 

“Seven-“ 

“I _get_ it,” Roger’s annoyed face was back. Huh, it had almost been twenty minutes this time. “But I hardly think the next two tasks are going to be just piling on the dragons. It’s the Triwizard Tournament, not the Dragon Tournament.” 

“That would be sweet,” Etta said. “Just dragons being badass.” 

“They would probably all be fighting each other,” Kate pointed out. Etta pouted. 

Roger sighed. “We’re getting off track. My point was, you managed to face down a dragon with very little time to prepare or plan a counter-attack. This time you’ve got a clue and three whole months to plan out what you’re going to do next. You’ll do fine. If anything, you should do even more amazingly than you did this time.” 

“And what if even all that’s not enough? What if I can’t come up with anything? I got past the dragon mostly through sheer luck and I almost died doing so. What if this next task goes even worse?” Bertie’s tapping on the egg sped up. 

“Well just worrying about it won’t solve anything! Better to just jump in and see!” Etta grabbed the egg off of Bertie’s stomach and pried it open. 

As soon as the egg opened, a horrible screaming filled the room. It sounded as though someone was torturing a mouse somewhere else in the room. 

“Close it!” Kate yelled, her hands covering her ears. 

Etta, who had dropped the egg to cover her own ears when the screaming began, just yelled back, “What?!” 

Kate rolled her eyes before snatching the egg up off of the floor and slamming it tightly shut. “There. Much better.” 

“What the hell was that?” Roger said, slowly lowering his hands from his ears. 

“Maybe Debenham has finally decided to come clean about all the people she’s torturing in her office,” Etta joked. She only got an eyeroll from him in response. 

“It didn’t sound human…” Bertie said, unsure. 

“So you’ll probably be going up against another magical creature of sorts,” Kate said. Bertie’s head fell back with a groan. “Etta, do you know of any creatures that can make that noise?” 

She considered for a minute before shaking her head. “Not off the top of my head. I can check the library though. They’ve got a _great_ selection of books on auditory dangers that I’ve been really meaning to check out. Did you know that there’s this rabbit in Tuscany that can kill you with a single scream?” 

Bertie let out another groan. “I am _so_ dead.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days later, Bertie heard Etta shouting from down the hallway. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” She ran up to him and grabbed his arm. “I’ve got it!” 

“You’ve got what?” It hit him. “The egg? You figured it out?” 

She nodded excitedly. “It hit me when I was walking past the lake this morning. It’s been too cold to properly visit Bob recently, and I was thinking about how lonely he must be with only the merpeople for company and then I remembered. Merpeople. They have terrible voices above water, they’re like horrible screeching sounds. I’m betting that if you put that egg in water there’ll be a message of some kind.” 

“Etta, that’s fantastic! You’re amazing!” Bertie scooped her up in a tight hug. 

She laughed. “Bertrand, you’re gonna squash me!” 

He set her down gently, laughing with her. “Sorry. I just… this is great! It means that I’ll have all three months just to work on a good strategy. It’s… It’s great. Fantastic, even.” 

Etta grinned up at him. “I know. Now let’s get that egg cracked open underwater.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That proved to be more difficult than it initially seemed, as there was the minor problem that the Hogwarts dormitories were outfitted only with showers - as most dormitories were - and according to Etta the screaming would only stop if the egg was fully submerged. Etta had pushed for going out to the lake and sticking the egg in there, and it had taken all three of them to talk her out of that plan. The lake currently being freezing cold was an issue for them for some strange reason. 

Roger had eventually sighed and told Bertie that he’d take him to one of the prefects’ bathrooms as they had baths there. And, as he continued to remind Bertie as they walked there, he could get into a lot of trouble for letting him in. 

“You can relax,” Bertie said after he was reminded for the third time. “It’s pretty late, I doubt anyone will even be around. We’ll be in and out in less than ten minutes.” 

“And if this egg message is really long?” 

“Then it’ll be slightly more than ten minutes. Come on, you’ve got a perfect record. You really think they’ll get mad at you for this?” 

“Probably not,” Roger muttered. 

“See? We’ll be fine.” 

Roger muttered something about _stupid Bertie with his stupid reasoning_ before coming to a halt in front of a wooden door. “Plug your ears. I’m already risking enough bringing you here.” 

Bertie rolled his eyes but complied. He didn’t know why Roger was always so fussed about following the rules. He was a good Prefect and the rest of his house seemed to like him well enough. Breaking a rule every now and then wouldn’t hurt his standing. In fact, it would probably humanize him to the rest of the school. Bertie was pretty sure half of them saw him as a robot, which couldn’t be further from the truth. 

The door swung open and Roger gestured for Bertie to go through first. He did so and was immediately amazed by the sheer size of the place. “Are you sure this is a bathroom?” he asked. 

Roger closed the door behind them, his ears turning red. “I know, it’s ridiculous. Completely unnecessary.” 

“But also totally awesome. They should’ve told Etta about this place. I don’t think she would’ve broken a single rule if it meant that she would become a Prefect and come here all the time.” 

“I’m pretty sure that nothing would stop Etta from breaking all the rules, but at least you’re optimistic,” Roger said, crouching down to turn on the water. He took off his socks and shoes before sitting on the edge of the tub, his feet dangling down towards the water. 

Bertie watched him for a minute before speaking again. “What do you think the egg will say?” 

He shrugged. “Probably something to do with the lake if it’s got the merpeople’s screaming in it.” 

“Do you think I’ll have to fight one of them next?” 

“That’s doubtful. I don’t think they’d like the idea of that very much. They’re probably just using it as a way to get you to use your head and solve a puzzle.” 

“But it wasn’t me who solved it, it was Etta,” Bertie pointed out. 

“So? It’s not like they know that,” Roger said. 

“I’m just…” Bertie sighed. “I don’t get it. She should’ve been the one who was chosen, not me. She’s way smarter than me. And she wanted it more too.” 

“Not this again,” Roger groaned. He sighed and patted the spot next to him. “Come here. It’ll be easier to talk to you if I don’t have to talk over my shoulder.” 

Bertie took off his socks and shoes before sitting down next to him. “What?” 

“You need to stop doubting yourself all the time, okay? I know that I can’t just say that you’re amazing and make you believe that you are, I can’t just tell you that you’re brave and you’ll suddenly see what the rest of us do, but you really need to stop beating yourself up. You’re smart and quick thinking and brave and you’re the best wizard at Hogwarts. The cup chose you because you have all those traits, not just one of them. Because unlike the rest of us, you can actually do this thing.” 

“I’ve only managed to do it so far because I’ve had help from everyone else.” 

“Not during the first task, you didn’t,” Roger said. “You were all alone in that enclosure, without a plan, and you still managed to defeat a dragon. Who cares if Kate duelled with you for three weeks before that? She wasn’t the one who froze the dragon, you were. And it’s going to be the same for this task as well. It won’t matter that Etta was the one to figure out that the noise was merpeople because you’ll still be the one to beat the actual task.” 

“You said it yourself though: they’re testing us,” Bertie said. 

“And you’re still passing their test. You’re still going to figure out what to do.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t think that the purpose of the Tournament is to test what you can do with just your wits and your wand. I think it’s to test what you can do with all the resources at your disposal. And that includes us.” 

“So basically it’s just testing who’s smart enough to actually talk to their friends and seek out help when it’s needed?” 

“Yeah.”  

Bertie laughed. 

Roger glared at him. “What?” 

“I’m sorry, but that’s just… That’s just so _Hufflepuff_ of you.” 

“Are you literally making fun of me for _acting like the House I was sorted into?”_

“Yes? Oh come on, don’t make that face! It’s funny! You’re such a grouch all of the time, I almost forget that you were sorted into the House of friendship and cuddly good feelings!” 

A second later, Bertie found himself being pushed into the tub despite still having all his clothes on. He resurfaced and glared at Roger. “What was that for?!” 

He could almost swear that Roger was smirking. “I thought I’d give you a demonstration of some “cuddly good feelings” since I apparently don’t show them enough.” 

“Did you have to push me in while I was still dressed?” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll just strip you naked next time.” 

Bertie grinned and tugged on Roger’s legs. He grabbed the side of the tub and clung on tightly. “Whoa whoa whoa, what are you doing?” 

“Getting revenge.” Despite acting annoyed, Bertie didn’t feel upset at all. In fact, he felt quite happy, like there was a bubble of light in his chest, filled with all those cuddly good feelings they had been talking about. 

“No no no, I am not going in there! Bertie, Bertie, no, Bertwy-“ Roger’s last word was cut off as he fell into the water. 

Roger resurfaced, looking exceptionally like a drowned dog. Bertie burst out laughing, the bubble in his chest growing. The other boy huffed and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. “I guess that answers the question of whether or not the tub’s full enough to put the egg in yet.” 

It felt as though the bubble in his chest popped, disappearing with only a few droplets on the ground to remind him that it had ever been there at all. “Yeah. I guess so.” 

Bertie grabbed the egg from where it was sitting near to the tub while Roger turned off the water. “You wanna hear it too?” 

“Sure.” 

“Okay, on three then. One, two, three!” 

They both took in deep breaths of air before ducking underwater. Bertie opened the egg as soon as they were under. This time it wasn’t a horrible screeching that greeted them, but rather a song. A very creepy sounding song that made Bertie want to run far, far away and not deal with the second task at all. 

They resurfaced as soon as the song was over, gasping slightly from having to hold their breath for so long. 

“Did you catch all of that?” Roger asked as soon as he got his breath back. 

Bertie nodded. “They’ve taken something I’ll miss and I’ve got an hour to get it back or else it’s gone forever.” 

“And it’s definitely the merpeople by the sound of it,” Roger added. “So whatever’s been taken will probably be in the lake.” 

“I can’t hold my breath that long!” Bertie buried his face in his hands. There was no way he was making it past this one. He had thought that the dragons were bad, but not breathing? That was impossible. He couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t. It didn’t matter how brave he was, how smart, how fast - breathing wasn’t optional for people. He was going to die. Or lose something important. Or both. Well at least you can’t lose something if you’re dead. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Roger’s hand on his shoulder. “You need to still breathe _now_ though.” 

Bertie hadn’t noticed he’d been hyperventilating. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. 

“Better?” Roger asked. Bertie nodded. “Good. Let’s get you back to your dorm then. We’ve got three months to figure out how to make you breathe underwater.” 

He was about to climb out of the tub when he realized something. “Um, Roger?” he said, biting his lip to keep from smiling. 

“What?” 

“We didn’t bring a change of clothes.” 

“Shit.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was halfway through Charms class when they received the news about the Yule Ball. Etta had immediately perked up, as though the thought of dancing had instantly restored any interest she had in Charms - which was, of course, very little. Roger had sunken slightly in his seat, as though just the thought of being around people for an entire evening and potentially having to touch them had sapped his will to live - which, of course, it had. Kate had glanced over at Etta, a small smile on her face, as though she was already planning how to ask her to the dance in the cutest way possible - which, of course, it would be. 

And Bertie? Bertie had felt his stomach do a flip due to one specific detail that had been mentioned: the champions and their partners would be opening the ball. Which meant that he would need to find a partner - which would, of course, be very difficult. 

He didn’t exactly have tons of friends outside of the other three. He’d never really needed to talk to anyone else, except for at dinnertime. Etta and Kate were obviously going to be going together, which left him with only Roger as a potential partner. And things had been kind of awkward between the two of them ever since they had opened up the egg. Plus Roger looked like he was planning on being as far away from the ball as possible. Interacting with people was around number 902 on the list of things that Roger Kaplan was good at doing. 

Which meant that Bertie would probably have to find someone in his House to go with or ask a stranger out during their first interaction. And while both of those were plausible options… 

He didn’t want to do that. He wanted to go with someone he knew, someone he liked. This was a dance, not just a trip to Hogsmeade. It was like asking a stranger out on Valentine’s Day. You’re taking this huge romantic moment and just ruining it by not knowing the person you’re doing it with. 

Bertie sighed and rested his head on his hand. Etta glanced over at him. “You alright there, Bertrand?” she whispered. 

He gave her a small nod but she didn’t look like she believed it. 

Etta approached him again after class. “Okay Bertrand, you’re going to tell me what’s wrong and you’re going to do it now.” 

“Nothing’s _wrong_ exactly, I’m just…” he sighed. “Okay, so we’ve got this ball coming up and it’s amazing. It’s going to be absolutely incredible, but I’ve got no one to go with. And I need a partner.” 

“What are you talking about, you can go with Roger.” 

“You honestly think that I can get Roger to go anywhere near a dance? And that’s not even taking into account the fact that there’s going to be even more attention put on us because I’m Hogwarts’ champion.” 

“You got him to put his name in for a tournament where he could possibly die,” she pointed out. “And he actually likes you. You really think he’d be so opposed to spending an evening with you?” 

“If it was just us, maybe not, but it won’t be.” 

“So?” 

“So, I doubt he’ll really want to spend an evening around half the school plus all the foreign students.” 

“Which is why you need to ask him. There’s no way he’ll come if he’s not going with you.” 

“Etta, there’s no reason he’d stay here over the winter break just so that he can go to a dance with me,” Bertie said. “Especially if it’s not something he wants to do in the first place.” 

“Bertrand there’s no way you’re this dense,” Etta said, crossing her arms. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I’m pretty sure Roger’s been in love with you since fifth year. He’d do whatever you asked him to. That’s probably why he put his name in the Goblet, and why he’ll stay here over break just to go on a date with you.” 

Bertie felt like his heart was about to beat straight out of his chest. “What?” 

“You really didn’t know? It was _super_ obvious.” 

“So he’d go with me?” 

“Oh, definitely. Now you go chase after him or whatever clueless Bertrands do, and I’ll go find out if my hot girlfriend’s going to ask me.” 

Bertie gave her a quick nod before walking down the hallway, wobbling slightly. How did he not know this? Was it really as obvious as Etta said and he had just been clueless for the past two years? Or did Etta just think it was obvious and no one else knew? Did Kate know as well? Had they all just been waiting for him to figure it out or were they keeping it secret from him on purpose? Etta seemed to think that he already knew. Did Roger think that he knew? Had he inadvertently hurt his feelings by being so clueless? Did he think that he just didn’t care? 

And what was he planning on doing with this information? Was it still fair to ask him to do this favour for him if it might accidentally send mixed signals? Were those signals even that mixed or did he want to be sending them? What were his feelings on this? The other night he thought he might… But did he really? Was it still fair to go together, hope that he did feel the same way, even if it might turn out that he didn’t? 

Bertie sunk down onto a nearby bench. His heart was still pounding in his chest, though now it was from anxiety and nerves rather than excitement. He wondered, not for the first time, if it was possible to die from anxiety. 

“Bertie?” Great, the last person he wanted to see right now. 

He tried to speak but all that ended up coming out were gasps. No no no no no, he was not having a panic attack right now. If he could keep a level head in front of a dragon, he could damn well talk to Roger. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Roger crouched down in front of him, worried. “Take a few deep breaths, you’re okay. You’re safe. Breathe in.” He couldn’t catch his breath, he couldn’t breathe in. “Bertie. I need you to breathe in, okay?” Bertie tried his best, but it was hard to breathe in when half of his body was screaming at him to breathe out. “Okay, good good. Now hold it, okay?” He tried but it felt like all the air was twisting around his throat and he ended up coughing out the air sooner than he wanted to. “Okay, that’s okay. Let’s try again, okay? In.” He managed to get in a decent amount of air and hold it for a few seconds this time. “Good job. Now out again.” It was still pretty choky, but he managed not to descend into a coughing fit this time. 

They continued like that for a few minutes, Roger talking him through his breathing, until Bertie was able to breathe mostly normally again. Roger got up and sat down next to him. “You okay?” 

He gave him a shaky nod. 

“Good. Do you want me to just like, talk, for a while?” he asked awkwardly. Another nod. “Okay. Well, uh, I don’t really know what to talk about. Um… I guess did you see Kate in Charms today? She was reading about three pages ahead, it was amazing.” 

Roger’s voice was filled with so much pride that Bertie couldn’t help but to smile. He and Kate had always been close and it got pretty damn adorable some times. “She’ll be done the textbook in no time,” he said hoarsely. “What will she do in class then?” 

“Probably find some way to completely destroy the classroom. Or just stop coming altogether. Both are equally likely when it comes to Kate, really. Etta, on the other hand… I don’t get it. She’s a _Ravenclaw.”_

Bertie gave him a small shrug. “It’s Etta,” he said as though that explained everything. In a way it did. 

Roger rolled his eyes. “She’s a bad influence. Pretty soon you won’t be doing any work either.” 

Bertie shrugged again and Roger frowned. “How are you doing? Feeling any better?” he asked. 

Bertie nodded. “A little bit, yeah.” He hesitated. “Th-Thanks for that, by the way. I really appreciate it.” 

“No problem.” Roger stood up and held out his hand to help Bertie up. “Where were you going before you started panicking? I’ll walk you there.” 

 _I was going to find you._ “Just to the dormitory,” he lied. 

“Bertie, that’s in the opposite direction.” 

“I know, I got lost.” 

_“Bertie.”_

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bertie almost murdered Etta two days later when she brought up the topic again. They were searching through theory books for something that would help him breathe underwater. Bertie had originally suggested gillyweed, but they ruled that out as it was hard to find and the exact time it would last wasn’t known. He didn’t want to run out of air forty-five minutes into the task while he was at the bottom of the lake. 

Their current plan was to have him transfigure his head into some sort of fish, but Bertie wasn’t exactly a big fan of that one, both out of the fear that he might end transfiguring his whole body and the fear that he wouldn’t be able to change himself back. 

“How about this? The bubble head charm?” Kate asked. “It forms a bubble around your mouth and nose and allows you to breathe normally while it’s in effect.” 

“Yeah, that might work…” Bertie said hesitantly. 

Etta slammed her book shut with a loud slam. “Great, now that we’ve got that figured out, let’s move onto something more interesting!” 

“I would’ve thought you’d be interested in this, Etta,” Roger said. 

“Nope, too much like work. And I am _drowning_ in end-of-term papers, I just want to crash on break already.” 

“You don’t have to keep helping me,” Bertie said. “I know you all have your own work that you need to be doing.” 

“Don’t be stupid Bertrand, of course I’m going to keep helping you. I’m just sick of reading books all the time.” She lay down, resting her head in Bertie’s lap. “So how are things going in your quest to find a dance partner?” 

He glanced over at Roger briefly to check for any reaction, but the other boy was busy searching through an encyclopedia of lake creatures, seemingly paying no attention to their conversation. “Not so great. All of the other Gryffindor seventh years are already going with each other. I forgot they were poly.” 

“How do you forget that the entire rest of your House year is dating each other?” Kate asked. 

“I dunno, they’re really subtle about it. They act like any other friend group.” 

“So you’ve already gone through your entire friends list because all of your friends are dating each other?” Etta teased. “Well, except for Roger, of course.” 

Roger flipped her off. 

“Yeah, but Roger’s going home for Christmas,” Kate said. “Right Roger?” 

Etta sat up so fast she almost beaned Bertie in the face. “What?! You can’t do that!” 

He looked up from his book. “And why is that?” 

“Because we all have to go to this thing together! It’s no fun if we’re not all there!” 

“Really? And what happened to me being a “fun-sucking leech?” Did you change your mind on that one?” 

“I said that _once.”_

“I think it was a few times more than that.”

“I didn’t mean it!” Bertie got the feeling that she was lying at least a little bit. 

Etta gave Roger her best puppy dog eyes. “Pleeeaaasseee? It’d be so much more fun if you were there! And it would solve Bertrand’s date problem!” 

 _Oh hell no._ Bertie piped up. “Etta, don’t force him to stay just because I’m a loner.” 

“It’s not just that. It really would be more fun if all of us were there together. One big happy family.” 

“No. No way. I’d consider maybe - _maybe_ -“ Roger emphasized, noticing Etta perk up, “- staying, but there’s no way I’m going as his date.” 

Bertie couldn’t help but feel hurt by that. “Really? Is it that terrible a thought?” 

Roger sighed. “It’s not that. It’s just… You’re the champion. That’s a lot of attention. And it means we’d have to dance, and-“ 

“Touching people’s not your thing. I get it.” Honestly the thought of being somewhere so loud for an entire evening wasn’t exactly Bertie’s idea of fun either. “But maybe if we just did the beginning bit? I mean, we don’t have to stay the whole night, right? I only need to be there for the opening part, so we could leave partway through.” 

“And I could go as Bertrand’s partner for that bit!” Etta suggested. She grinned up at him. “Did you really think you could get out of a dance with me?” 

He grinned back. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Well Roger? What do you think?” Kate asked. 

He sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it.” 

Etta squealed slightly in delight. “Yes! And you’re dancing with me too! You owe me at least one dance, even if you don’t touch me!” 

Judging by the look on Roger’s face, not touching her would not be an problem. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bertie had agreed to meet Etta outside of Ravenclaw Tower the night of the Yule Ball, though now that the time had come he was beginning to wonder more and more whether this was something that he actually wanted to do. The thought of people watching him dance was causing his heart to trip over itself in his chest, and the fact that he had to wear dress robes wasn’t exactly helping. He’d lucked out in finding some dark red ones, so he shouldn’t stand out too much, but he still felt rather silly. He knew that most of that feeling would go away once he met up with the others and was surrounded by other people that were just as dressed up, that he would even begin enjoying himself then, but for now… No. Just no. 

A girl walked out of the Ravenclaw common room, and for a moment Bertie almost didn’t recognize her. Her curly hair had been pulled back into a bun at the back of her head with only a few loose curls falling down against her neck. She was dressed in silvery-blue dress robes, probably in an attempt to show subtle Ravenclaw pride, and as she turned her head to look the other way down the hallway, Bertie could see that she had a few small, silver bird pins in her hair, holding it all in place while being another symbol of Ravenclaw pride. Subtle but beautiful. 

“Etta?” 

She turned to face him and her entire face lit up. “Bertrand!” 

“You look… wow.” 

“Thanks! It took me forever to do my hair though: curls are such a pain.” 

“Tell me about it.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we go?” 

Etta laughed and took his arm. “You’re so cute! It’s like you were made for this sort of thing.” 

Bertie shrugged as they began walking down to the Great Hall. “It’s a big romantic event. I like this sort of thing.” 

“And now you’ve got a special someone to share it with.” He didn’t have to look at her to know that she was winking suggestively. Bertie felt a warm flush creep up his neck. 

“Etta. Please.” 

“Okay, okay, fine. I’m just saying.” Thankfully she took pity on him and switched topics. “What do you think Kate’ll look like tonight?” 

“Probably stunning but also like she could kick your ass.” 

“So like she does every day?” 

“That’s gay, Etta.” 

“We’re gay.” 

“Very gay.” 

“The gayest.” 

Etta snorted. “Okay, that’s not true. Kate’s the gayest. You’re the queerest. I’m the panest.” 

“Panest’s not a word,” Bertie said. 

“You’re not a word.” 

“Etta that doesn’t even make sense.” 

“You don’t make sense.” 

“Etta. Etta please.” 

Etta laughed as they started down the steps leading into the Entrance Hall. Her laugh was loud and obnoxious, sure, but it was also one of the best sounds that Bertie had ever heard. It meant that Etta was happy. And that was one of the greatest things to know. 

“You’re stupidly important to me,” he said abruptly. 

Etta grinned up at him. “Thanks. You’re stupidly important to me too.” 

“Is platonic marriage a thing? That should totally be a thing.” 

“Nah, I think you’ve just got to get regular married.” 

“That’s boring,” Bertie said. 

“I know,” Etta replied. “So I guess we’ll just have to settle for houses next door to each other.” 

“Think Kate would be able to deal with me for the rest of her life?” he asked. 

“Well she hasn’t proposed yet,” Etta began. Bertie interrupted her. 

“She will.” 

 _“But_ I think she would be able to deal with it if her best friend was living next door with you,” Etta’s Chesire Cat grin was back. 

Bertie rolled his eyes. “We’re not even dating! And I thought you agreed to drop it.” 

“Please. Like I’d ever drop the matter of your love life,” Etta said as they joined Frank and his date. 

“Bertie!” Frank said, delighted. He was dressed in deep blue dress robes. The girl standing next to him was in dark green. “You didn’t tell me you had a love life! And you _definitely_ didn’t tell me you were dating Etta!” 

“He’s not,” Etta said at the same time Bertie said, “I’m not.” 

“But you’re here as his date?” Frank said as though it was obvious. 

“Actually, I’m not,” Etta said. “I’m just here as his momentary dance partner because his actual date doesn’t like touching people.” 

Frank looked at Bertie quizzically. “Then how do you date them?” 

“Oh my gosh…” Etta said as both Bertie and Frank’s date facepalmed. 

“No, seriously. How do you date someone if they don’t like you touching them? Like, you can’t _do_ anything then, that’s so boring.” 

“Please stop talking, please stop talking, please stop talking…” Etta muttered. 

Frank’s date narrowed her eyes. “Haven’t you ever heard of asexuality?” 

“A-what now?” he said. 

“Oh, he’s not ace,” Bertie said. “He just doesn’t like being touched.” 

The girl blinked. “Okay, yeah. That’s kind of weird then.” 

Etta made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a muffled scream and Bertie wondered how they were going to make it through another few minutes of this. 

Luckily they were all saved by the arrival of Wel. She was dressed all in black, matching the Beauxbatons boy who was holding her hand. “Is Frank putting his foot in his mouth again?” she asked, giving Frank one of her cheerful-yet-terrifying smiles. “You should really stop doing that, you know. It might get you into trouble.” 

Frank swallowed hard at the vaguely threatening comment, though he didn’t have much time to dwell on it as they were being lead into the Great Hall moments later. The rest of the students had already gone in, and the thought of walking past all of them filled Bertie’s stomach with dread. Etta, seeming to pick up on this, gave his arm a tight squeeze as they walked in. And suddenly it all seemed easier to handle, knowing that Etta would be right there by his side. 

Bertie chose not to focus on the swarms of unknown faces as they walked in, but rather to look at them once they had sat down, so as to limit the chance of him tripping and embarrassing himself in front of everybody: again. And even then he chose not to look at all of them but rather to search for two students in particular. 

He found them about halfway through the room, sitting at one of the tables that was tucked against a wall. Kate gave him a wide smile and a wave, one that Etta returned eagerly once she had caught sight of her girlfriend. Kate did indeed look both stunning and kickass, dressed in red with part of her hair braided back to keep it out of her face. Though the kickass part was slightly dulled by the doe eyes that she was continually sending in Etta’s direction. 

Roger, on the other hand, looked more stunned than anything else. He was staring at Bertie, though he looked away quickly when he noticed that he was looking, his cheeks darkening as he blushed. He was dressed in dark green, which suited him really well. Like, really well. Bertie looked away when he realized that he was staring. 

The feast was a lot more interesting with Etta there to keep him company. He’d gotten used to just hearing Frank talk for twenty minutes and it was nice to have someone else as a buffer between the two of them. Besides, Frank seemed more than happy to talk to his date, who seemed like she had gotten something very different than what she had been expecting when she agreed to go to the ball with Frank. Wel seemed happier than usual, chattering away with the Beauxbatons boy. He looked at her like she was the sun and the sky, which was absolutely adorable. 

Eventually the time came when they were expected to dance, and Bertie was pleased to find that he was actually kind of excited for it. Dancing with Etta didn’t seem too bad, and the rest of the evening had been going well so far… 

That was of course until they had to figure out how, exactly, they were going to be able to dance together, what with Etta being as short as she was and Bertie being, well, not. Her head only came up to his shoulders, which made putting her hand on his shoulder very awkward. 

“I don’t think we fully thought this through,” he whispered. 

Etta was trying very hard not to laugh. “We’ll make it work. We’ll totally make it work.” 

The music began. They were not making it work. It was a lot more stumbling and nearly tripping over Etta than Bertie would have liked. And judging by the look on Etta’s face, she wasn’t liking it anymore than he was. 

“Should you get on my feet?” he suggested. 

She gave him a scathing look. “Bertrand. I am not your daughter.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Dancing on someone else’s feet is only appropriate when it’s a small child dancing on their parent’s feet. Not when it’s just because you’re too short to slow dance with your best friend.” 

They attempted to turn and Bertie nearly bowled Etta over. “Bertrand.” 

“I’m sorry! You’re just… really short, okay? Were you always this short?” 

“Yes I was always this short!” Etta sighed. “Okay, let’s just… I dunno, stop moving? Just sway? People do that all the time, right?” 

Bertie nodded. “Put your arms around my neck.” 

Etta did so and they remained in the same spot, swaying gently back and forth. “Okay, yeah. This is easier. This is definitely easier,” Bertie said. 

Etta snickered. “Everyone’s probably thinking we just don’t know how to dance. Little do they know you’re just part giant.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Are you sure about that, Bertrand?” 

“Yes. You’re just short. And you don’t see me calling you part goblin.” 

“You just did.” 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“Hm.” Etta dropped the subject as other students began joining them. Even though there were more people around, it seemed almost easier to breathe then. They danced together until the end of the song, at which point they decided to go off and find the other two. 

Kate and Roger were in the same place they had been before, talking excitedly to one another. Kate caught sight of them first, springing to her feet and walking over to greet Etta. 

“Etta! You look amazing!” 

Etta beamed up at her. “Thanks! You look beautiful.” 

Kate smiled. She took Etta’s hand and raised it to her lips, bowing slightly. “May I have this dance?” 

“Okay, first of all that was seriously smooth. And yes, of course you can,” Etta said, blushing slightly. 

The two girls walked off towards the dance floor, hand-in-hand and smiling at each other like no one else existed. Kate hadn’t even glanced at Bertie. 

Bertie took her seat as revenge. Roger didn’t look over at him so he nudged his foot with his own. “So? Is it as bad as you thought?” 

Roger considered the question for a minute. “No. It’s not as crowded over here.” 

“Yeah, the people are a bit much if you’re dancing.” 

Roger smirked. “Is that what you two were doing?” 

“Okay, that was not my fault,” Bertie said. He ignored the flip that his stomach had just done. “Etta is shorter than she looks.” 

“Really? Because Kate seems to be having no problem dancing with her.” 

Bertie followed his gaze to where Etta and Kate were dancing together. They were still giving each other that same doe-eyed, lovesick look. Paired with the slow dancing, it was like pure sugar had come to life. “They’re going to get married as soon as we graduate, aren’t they?” 

“Probably,” Roger said. “They’re definitely naive enough to.” 

“You think it’s naive?” 

“Marrying as soon as you graduate? Yeah. It would never last. You’re not mature enough for it yet.” 

“If anyone could make it last, it would be those two,” Bertie said. 

Roger smiled slightly. “Yeah, that’s a good point. They’re definitely in love enough for it to work.” 

“Ooo, is the glacier melting slightly?” 

He looked over at Bertie, confused. “What?” 

“That glacier of a heart that you have. Is it melting finally?” 

“I do not have a glacier for a heart!” 

“Uh, yeah you do? You’re always so tough and “I don’t care about anyone”-y. Are you finally going to admit that you actually like people?” Bertie teased. 

Roger mouth twisted into a frown. “I care about people.” 

“Sure, _I_ know that. But you’re crap at showing it.” 

“Maybe I just don’t show it like you do.” 

“And how’s that?” 

“All… affectionate,” Roger sounded disgusted. “Like you just can’t wait to tell people how much they mean to you, like that’s not a hard thing to say.” 

“It’s not,” Bertie said. “Telling somebody you care about them and want them to be safe is easy.” 

“And I don’t do that?” 

“Not really. I mean, you show it but you don’t really say it that much.” Noticing Roger’s look of confusion, he decided to push on. “Like, you show Etta that you care about her by telling her not to do something dangerous, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard you tell her that you can, y’know, actually stand her presence.” 

“But I spend time with her every day. Even when you and Kate aren’t around. Isn’t that enough?” 

“Not for some people. Some people need a vocal confirmation.” 

“Do you?” 

“What?” 

“Do you need a vocal confirmation that I like you?” Roger’s staring at him, his brown eyes steady and hard. 

Bertie considered the question. On one hand, he didn’t mind that Roger didn’t vocalize his feelings. He could always read what he was thinking, see that he was worried about him, and he knew that he had his back. But on the other hand, hearing someone say that they care about you is very different from just knowing it. It was certainty. 

“Yes.” 

“Fine. Then I care about you.” 

Bertie laughed. “That’s it?” 

“Well what did you expect?” Roger said. 

“I don’t know, something more along the lines of “you’re important to me, you matter a lot to me, I can’t imagine life without you.”” _I’m in love with you._

Roger cringed. “Do I really have to say all that? Isn’t it just… implied?” 

Noticing his discomfort, Bertie decided to lay off of Roger for now. After all, he could always get those things out of him later with a little coaxing. He gave him a smile. “Nah, it’s implied.” 

Kate and Etta appeared in front of them, beaming. Etta held her hand out to Roger. “Come on, I’m cashing in that dance you owe me.” 

“I thought you said I didn’t have to touch you.” 

“You don’t.” 

“Then put your damn hand down.” 

Etta rolled her eyes before turning and walking back to the dance floor, Roger following her reluctantly. Kate took his seat, laughing. “I honestly didn’t expect her to win that one.” 

“I warmed him up for her,” Bertie said. “Got him all soft and mushy.” 

Kate raised her eyebrows. “Oh? 

“Yeah. I got him to say “I care about you.” It was quite the victory.” 

“Wow, a whole statement of affection. Impressive.” 

“I know, I’m very proud.” 

Kate laughed. “I wonder how long Etta’ll be able to keep him out there.” 

“My money’s on fifteen seconds.” 

“Nah, Roger seems to be being generous tonight. I’m betting one minute.” 

Two minutes later, they had both lost as the others returned to the table. Roger sunk down into a chair. “Okay, that’s all my sociable points for tonight. I’m done.” 

“Aw, already? You’re not even going to stay another ten minutes?” Etta asked, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. 

Roger rolled his eyes. “That’s not going to convince me to stay.” 

Kate got up and took Etta’s hand. “Come on Etta, I’ll be your partner for the rest of the evening.” She smiled at the boys. “We’ll see you guys later?” 

Bertie nodded and the girls headed back out to the dance floor, Etta looking even happier than before. 

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked Roger. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” came the reply. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four of them spent most of the rest of winter break either wandering through the castle and the grounds or curled up in the Room of Requirement, practicing spells that would work against water creatures. Etta had been quick to inform him that the lake was filled with all sorts of monsters that would try to kill him as he journeyed down to rescue whatever it was that had been taken from him, and Bertie hadn’t exactly liked the idea of being put on the spot again like with the dragon. He’d much prefer knowing exactly what to do if he came across a Grindylow instead of losing precious seconds trying to think of spells that would work underwater. 

It wasn’t until the last day of break that Etta finally thought of something that she probably should have realized weeks ago. 

“Bob!” she said suddenly. Bob was what Etta had named the monster that lived in the lake. 

Bertie looked over from where he was practicing _alarte ascendare_ on a pile of cushions. They had switched to cushions after his first attempt sent Etta’s books flying into the ceiling and causing a loud noise that startled all of them. Cushions were much quieter. Much. “What?” 

“Bob! You can use Bob during the task!” 

“Don’t get me wrong, Bob’s great, but how exactly is he supposed to help me?” Bertie asked. 

“He can protect you,” she said. “If you go to his home first, he can escort you to the merpeople’s civilization, maybe even show you the way. Grindylows won’t bother you if you’re with Bob, they’re too scared of him!”

“That might actually work,” Kate said. “I mean you’ll lose time trying to find Bob-“ 

“He’s a giant tentacle monster, how hard can it be?” Bertie interrupted. 

 _“But,”_ she continued, “you’ll make up that time not having to fight the Grindylows or find the merpeople civilization on your own.” 

Bertie shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.” 

“That the spirit,” Kate said. “Okay, Bubblehead charm again. Let’s see how long you can hold it this time.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning of the second task dawned bright and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. Bertie was tempted to hiss at the sky, tell it that it wasn’t allowed to be so happy. Not today, not when he was about to face death: again. 

Etta waved to him across the Great Hall at breakfast, giving him a thumbs up as he took his seat. Bertie gave her the best smile he could muster up, ignoring the flips that his stomach was doing. 

Frank was in his usual spot at the Gryffindor table and he greeted him with an excited clap on the back. “How’s it going, man? You ready for the second task?” 

Bertie grunted slightly from the clap. “Yeah. It’s going to be great.” 

“That’s the spirit! What do you think they took?” 

“No idea.” In all of his preoccupation with being ready for the monsters and the whole lack-of-oxygen part of being underwater for an hour, Bertie hadn’t spared a second thought to what the actual task was: rescuing something from the bottom of the lake. Something that he would miss if he wasn’t able to return it. Something dear to him. 

Well, he’d find out what it was in a couple of hours anyways. No point in worrying about it too much. 

“Well did you notice anything missing from your room this morning?” Frank asked. 

“I didn’t really think to check,” Bertie replied. 

Frank rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to get on that, man! How are you going to know what to look for if you don’t even know what’s missing?” 

Bertie shrugged. “I figured it would be some place obvious.” 

Frank shook his head mournfully. “And that’s where you messed up, dude. What if they hide it in a merperson’s house or something? What will you do then?” 

“Hunt for it, I guess.” He wondered if there was enough time to run back to the dorm and check for anything missing. What if there wasn’t enough time to just look blindly? 

Frank scoffed. “Good luck with that.” 

Bertie’s stomach was still churning when he met up with the girls to go down to the lake. “Where’s Roger?” he asked. 

Kate shrugged. “I haven’t seen him yet this morning.” 

“Well we haven’t got time to wait for him,” Etta said. “He knows where we’ll be.” 

The three of them walked down towards the lake together, Kate and Etta talking as they went. Bertie felt too anxious to speak. What if the charm faded while he was underwater? Could he even cast a new one while he down there? What if he took too long finding Bob? What if the Grindylows got him before he could reach him? What if what ifwhatif _whatif?_  

They climbed out onto the structure that the champions would be starting on. Etta gave Bertie a tight hug. 

“Stay safe, alright?” she said. “Find Bob as soon as you can, he’ll protect you.” 

Bertie nodded and watched them climb the steps to the upper levels of the structure before he went to go join the other champions who were both waiting with their headmasters. As usual, Debenham barely acknowledged him despite his friendly greeting. Bertie sighed and leaned against the railing of the structure, wishing that they could just get it over with already. He just wanted the anxiety to go away. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Lamar finally called for the champions to line up at the edge of the structure. Bertie stared down at the dark water that was splashing just inches away from his feet and hoped that it wasn’t as cold as it looked. Considering it was late February though, he doubted it. 

Lamar had just begun going over the guidelines of the task when Bertie heard someone calling his name. Someone who sounded an awful lot like Kate. 

“Bertie! Bertie, look up!” He looked up and saw Kate leaning over the railing of the level above him. “Bertie, it’s Roger. You need to rescue Roger.” 

“What?” His voice came out as little more than a squeak, drowned out by Lamar’s whistle. He instinctively preformed the Bubblehead charm on himself, an action that Kate had spent the past two months conditioning him to do, before diving into the water. 

A person. Of course it was a person, how could he have expected it to be anything else? But how were they keeping Roger alive down there? Was he able to breathe? Would he run out of air once the hour was up and that was why Bertie had to get back up before the hour was up? 

His breath was coming fast and hard now, which on one hand was good because it proved that the bubblehead charm was working, but on the other hand was very, very bad because hyperventilating was not going to help him save his friend. 

Bertie paused for a second to try and slow his breathing. He needed to focus. Find Bob and then worry about getting Roger out of the lake alive. That was the order he needed to do things in. So for now he just had to push Roger out of his mind and assume that he was alright and wasn’t about to die any time soon. Probably only a minute had passed so far, he definitely still had air left. Probably. 

 _Alright, find Bob. What did Etta say about that?_ he thought. 

 _He likes the west side of the lake,_ Bertie could hear Etta say. _I think he’s got a cave or something there._

Okay, cave on the west side of the lake. He could do that. 

Bertie began swimming there, trying to go as fast as he could. He raked his brain for a spell that would make him swim faster, but he couldn’t think of any. For now he’d just have to hope that his natural speed would be enough. 

 _Good thing I’ve got broad shoulders,_ he thought. 

Occasionally he’d stop and use the four-point spell to check that he was still heading in the right direction. It was hard to tell which way was which when he was so deep underwater, let alone whether or not he was still swimming in a straight line.  

After what felt like around fifteen minutes, Bertie reached a collection of rocks that seemed like they had been meticulously placed to form a cozy looking cave. There was an old Ravenclaw scarf held in place between two of them, fluttering softly with the tide. Definitely Bob’s place then. 

Bertie swam down to the entrance of the cave. “Bob?” he called out, hoping that the sound could travel past the bubble over his mouth. 

There was a low growl from inside the cave before a mass of tentacles burst out and wrapped themselves around Bertie, squeezing tightly. He managed to cough out a laugh. “Whoa there buddy, a little tight!” 

There was another growl from the cave, slightly softer this time, and the tentacles loosened up slightly. The rest of Bob followed them out of the cave, making happy gurgling noises as he did so. 

“Hey there buddy, did you miss me?” Bertie asked. The four of them hadn’t been able to visit the lake as often lately due to the freezing cold temperatures. Typically they’d have to wade into the lake a bit to be able to visit Bob and none of them really wanted to risk hypothermia. 

Bob let out a low, sad growl in reply. “Aw, I’m sorry Bob.” Bertie scratched one of the tentacles holding him and Bob growled happily. “There you go. Better?” Another happy growl. “Good. I need your help for a bit, okay?” A slight accusatory growl. “I know, we haven’t visited you in weeks, but I really need your help. Roger’s in danger and-“ Oh no, a very loud, very angry growl. “No no, he’s fine,” Bertie said quickly. “He’s only in danger if I can’t rescue him. Which is why I need your help. I need to get to the merpeople colony, but there’s a lot of Grindylows and-“ 

Bob let go of Bertie and immediately began swimming away into the deeper part of the lake. Bertie swam after him, sticking close by as they entered the dense seaweed that filled most of the lake. 

There was an angry chattering sound somewhere to his right, but the noise disappeared before Bertie could get a good glimpse at whatever caused it. The sound then came from behind him, and then to his left, above, to the right again. Bob was growling angrily, his tentacles swiping off into the seaweed. Occasionally Bertie would catch a glimpse of something gray but it always vanished before he caught a good glimpse of it. Bob seemed to be picking off the Grindylows faster than they could appear, thank god. 

When they emerged from the seaweed, they were several feet away from a village of stone buildings. Creatures swam in and out of them, tridents in hand. Bertie looked over at Bob. “Is this the colony?” 

Bob growled. 

“Okay. Roger should be in there somewhere. But he’s fine, okay?” he reassured Bob, noticing his tentacles beginning to flick angrily again. “We don’t need to fight the merpeople. They should just let me take him. How about you just… stay here, for right now. I’ll come find you after I’ve got Roger. Okay?” 

Bob growled again, slightly less angrily this time. 

“Okay. I’ll be back soon.” 

Bertie swam towards the merpeople’s colony, clutching his wand tightly. He’d managed to avoid the worst threat thanks to Bob, but there was no guarantee that the merpeople would just happily let him take Roger. They might put up a fight and he needed to be ready for it. 

To his surprise, they seemed quite content to let him swim past. Most of the merpeople stopped and stared at him but none of them attacked him. They just… watched. 

Bertie made it to the centre of the colony without a scratch on him. A giant stone merperson was in the middle of the square, with two people chained to the base of it. Swimming closer, Bertie could see that one was Roger and the other was a little boy who had the same light brown skin and dark curls as Frank. 

 _So Wel has already been here. Great,_ he thought. 

He pointed his wand at the chains holding Roger to the statue and muttered a severing spell. _“Diffindo.”_

The chains snapped and Bertie grabbed hold of Roger’s arm before he began floating up towards the surface. He glanced around for any sign of Frank but all he could see were the merpeople watching him suspiciously. No other humans in sight besides the three of them. He wondered for a second if he should stay and make sure that Frank got to his brother? cousin? safely, before deciding against it. Frank would be there soon. 

He swam back to Bob the best he could while still holding onto Roger. The other boy seemed to either be knocked out or asleep. Or an hour had passed and he was already dead. 

Bertie stopped swimming long enough to check Roger’s pulse. Nope. Still beating. Thank god. 

Bob was waving his tentacles nervously when Bertie reached him, his gaze fixated on Roger. 

“He’s fine,” Bertie reassured him. “He’s just asleep. We need to get back to the surface though. Do you mind helping me there?” 

Bob growled and sunk down to the lake floor. Bertie stared at him, confused, and he pointed one of his tentacles at his back. 

“Oh! Thanks.” He climbed onto Bob’s back, holding on tightly to Roger with one hand and his wand with the other. There could still be Grindylows on the way back. 

Bob began swimming up towards the surface and Bertie nearly fell off his back. He moved a lot faster than he had been expecting, and there wasn’t exactly anything to hold onto. His back was completely smooth and rubbery: it was like sitting on a rapidly rising sphere of death.  

The bright side to the speed was that it kept the Grindylows off them. It was quickly dawning on Bertie that Bob had only been moving slowly earlier to let for him to keep up. Typical of the friendly monster. 

The three of them broke through the surface of the lake to loud shouts from most of the crowd watching. Bertie barely heard them though, focused instead on Roger who had just gasped awake. “Roger? Roger, are you alright?” 

He coughed up water. “Bertie? What the-“ Roger seemed to notice suddenly where they were. “Bertie, are we on Bob’s back right now?” 

“Um, yes?” he said tentatively. 

Just then Bob began swimming rapidly towards the stands. Bertie yelped and nearly dropped his wand into the water while Roger muttered a swear word under his breath. “What’s he doing?” he asked. 

It took Bertie a minute before he saw what was drawing Bob in: Etta, who was leaning over the railing and waving at him. She seemed to be shouting something, though Bertie couldn’t hear what it was over the yells of the rest of the crowd, many of whom were beginning to draw their wands. 

“He’s friendly!” Bertie called to them. “He won’t hurt you, don’t worry!” 

They still looked unsure, even as Bob drew to a halt in front of the stands. Etta leaned further out to hug him, Kate holding onto the back of her cloak to keep her from falling. As they slid off of Bob’s back, Bertie could hear her cooing to him. “Who’s a good boy? You are! You’re such a good boy, yes you are!” 

“Did you just kiss him?” Kate asked, looking disgusted. “Oh my god, I am never kissing you again.” 

“He just _saved_ Bertie and Roger, Kate. He deserves a kiss!” Etta turned her attention back to Bob. “I’m going to bring you so many treats back from Hogsmeade next weekend, you’re such a good boy!” 

Kate looked over at the boys and relief flooded her face. She threw her free arm around Roger and hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” she muttered. 

There was a commotion in the staircase as Debenham and the school nurse burst upstairs and rushed over to their group. 

“Are you alright?” The school nurse began fussing over Bertie and Roger, wrapping towels around them and herding them towards the staircase while Debenham walked over to the railing and pulled Etta back to safety. 

“Ms. Perrault, you will fall in and then we’d have to worry about yet another student getting sick. Please try not to be so reckless next time,” Bertie heard her say. Debenham reached out to pet Bob, but he growled angrily at her and she drew her hand back. She turned to say something to Kate but Bertie was unable to make it out as the nurse rushed him downstairs. 

Wel was waiting for them at the bottom of the steps. “You sure know how to make an entrance, don’t you?” 

“S-Sorry ab-bout th-hat.” Bertie’s teeth were chattering so much it was hard to get out an answer. 

“No no, it’s fine. It was exciting. Exactly what the crowd needed. They’ve been staring at an empty lake for an hour now. I think Debenham was about five seconds away from pushing students in just to liven things up a bit.” 

Bertie laughed. The nurse chided him for it before handing him a cup of a warm orange liquid that bubbled suspiciously. “Now I want you to sit down and drink all of that. First dragons, now an hour in the winter lake? What’s next? Just chopping your heads off?” 

Bertie sat down near the edge of the platform, giving Bob a gentle pat as he sunk back into the lake. “Thanks for your help, buddy.” 

Bob gave him one last happy growl before disappearing from sight. 

Roger sat down next to Bertie. He was curled up in a bundle of towels, glaring down at the cup of liquid like it had just done something to personally offend him.

“How are you doing?” Bertie asked him. 

“Fine.” He didn’t look fine.  

“You sure? You were down there a while. You’re probably freezing.” Bertie said. Roger shrugged and Bertie could hear his bones crack from the cold. They both winced. “Yeah, that definitely sounds fine.” 

“Bertie, I’m fine. Just a bit cold.” 

“That’s not fine then!” 

“And you’re not cold?” 

“I was only done there for an hour,” Bertie pointed out. “You were down there, what? All night?” 

“Something like that,” he muttered. 

“Oh sure, but you’re just a bit cold,” Bertie said sarcastically. 

Etta and Kate came down the staircase and rushed over to them. “You did it!” Etta said, pleased. Bertie was thrilled to see that she wasn’t crying this time. Though she did smell strongly of seaweed after hugging Bob. 

“It was all thanks to Bob,” he said. “I didn’t even have to fight the grindylows, he just kept them away from me.” 

“If you say that that means it wasn’t really you who completed the task, I will throw you back into the lake,” she said. 

Bertie didn’t answer her,choosing instead to drink some of the suspicious liquid that the nurse had given him. He regretted it a second later when it ended up tasting like burnt orange. “Eugh, that’s disgusting!” 

“Well you’d better drink up unless you want to be in the Hospital Wing for a week with hypothermia,” Kate said. She had taken a seat next to Roger and was trying to convince him to take her cloak. 

Bertie wrinkled his nose and drained the cup in one go, figuring that it was better to just get it over with. He placed the cup on the floor as Frank emerged from the lake, clutching the little boy tightly in his arms. 

“It’s about time,” Wel muttered. She was sitting a few feet away from them with a soaking wet girl that Bertie was pretty sure he’d seen in the Beauxbatons uniform before. The girl’s skin was so pale from the cold that even at that distance he could clearly see her freckles. 

“Why, how long has he been gone?” he asked Wel. 

She shrugged. “Probably an hour and fifteen minutes, hour and twenty. Too long, at any rate.” 

Bertie feels his heart drop into his stomach. The little boy. Was he still alive? They wouldn’t kill a _child,_ would they? 

Much to his relief, the boy seemed to be moving as Frank swam over. As they drew closer though, Bertie could make out sucker marks along both Frank and the boy’s necks and arms. 

“He must have gotten caught by the Grindylows,” Kate said quietly. 

The Dumstrang headmaster was quick to help the two of them out of the water, the nurse wrapping them up in blankets as soon as they were on the platform. Frank kept his arm wrapped tightly around the boy as they were bustled over to the rest of them and the judges drew off to the side to consult. 

“Are you alright Frank?” Bertie asked. 

Frank gave him a slow nod. “We got caught by the Grindylows coming back. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” 

“You took too long,” Wel said. “You’ll lose most of your points.” 

Frank shrugged and turned his attention to the boy curled into his side. “Come on Jamie, drink your potion,” he said quietly. 

A few minutes later the judges were ready to reveal the placements. Lamar put his wand to his throat and announced them in a booming voice. 

“In first place, for forty-seven points, Ms. Brigade from Beauxbatons.” Wel grinned and her friend hugged her arm, pleased. 

“In second place, for forty points, Mr. Renard from Hogwarts.” Bertie let out a sigh of relief and relaxed slightly. He’d done alright. 

“And in third place, for thirty-four points, Mr. Hayward from Dumstrang.” Frank looked up with a small frown before turning his attention back to Jamie. 

Etta had been doing the math on her fingers. “Damn, not quite there!” 

“What?” Bertie asked. 

“You’re only two points behind Frank!” she said. “ _Two points._ You’re so close!” 

“What about Wel?” He was almost afraid to ask. 

“Oh, she’s kicking both your asses,” Kate said. “She had more time than you to prepare for the dragon though, so it’s kind of to be expected.” 

“Do I still stand a chance?” 

“It depends on what the last task is,” she said. “If it’s something you excel at and she struggles in, maybe.” 

“There’s still a chance though,” Etta said. “You can’t give up yet! You’re doing amazing and you’re totally going to win.” 

Bertie frowned. “I hope so.” 

“Come on dweebs, let’s get you back to shore and warmed up,” Kate said, helping Roger to his feet. “You can’t win if you freeze to death before the final task.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another month before Bertie heard anything about the third task. He spent his free month studying for the NEWTs with the other three, who were much further ahead in their studying than he was. 

“You’re a Triwizard champion, how do you not know how to protect a site from hexes?” Roger hissed at him across the table in the library one day. The four of them had grabbed a table in the back of the library early in the morning and had been spending all day reviewing their notes. 

Bertie shrugged, staring down at his textbook with wide eyes like that would help his brain absorb the information. “I don’t know, it wasn’t something I was focusing on. I’ve been prioritizing spells I can use in the tournament.” 

“You’re going to fail your NEWTs.” 

Etta kicked Roger under the table. “Stop it, he’s doing fine.” 

Roger scowled and rubbed his sore leg. “Not if he’s nearly _three months_ behind in all of his classes.” 

“Not all of them,” Kate said. “He’s ahead in Defence Against the Dark Arts.” 

“That’s not going to help him if it’s the only NEWT he passes.” 

“He’s also ahead in Herbology,” Etta added, reaching across Kate to steal her Ancient Runes notes. “I lost mine,” she offered up as explanation at Kate’s raised eyebrows. 

“How do you lose an entire class worth of notes?” she asked. 

“I dunno, I have a lot of papers in my trunk.” 

Bertie dropped his head onto his textbook with a groan. “I’m going to fail, aren’t I?” 

“Probably,” Roger said before yelping as both girls kicked him. 

“You’ll do fine,” Kate said. “There’s still loads of time for you to catch up, and we’ll be there to help you out. Just like we’ve been doing with the tournament.” 

“And you don’t _need_ your NEWTs,” Etta said. “I mean, they’re good to have, but you can survive just fine without them. Lots of people do.” 

Bertie sighed and lifted his head back up off the book. “I guess.” 

He decided to put Charms aside for the moment and took out his star charts for Astronomy. He hadn’t been paying nearly enough attention in class recently and had multiple incomplete sections that needed to be filled in. 

“Hey Bertie!” He was jolted out of his studies by Frank’s loud voice. The Dumstrang boy was jogging over to their table, receiving glares from most of the students as he went. “Lamar sent me to get you. He’s waiting for us out on the Quidditch field.” 

“What, is the final task a pick-up game?” Etta asked. 

Frank shrugged. “I doubt it. There were bushes all over the place.” 

Bertie packed up his books. “I’ll see you guys later,” he told his friends. He received varying degrees of an alert farewell in reply. 

Frank kept chattering to him as they went down to the field. “You guys were studying for your NEWTs, right? That’s what they’re called?” 

“Yeah. They’re our finals for our last year.” 

“Oh man, that sounds like a rough time.” 

“What, you don’t have finals in Bulgaria?” Bertie asked. 

“No, we do. You guys just all look way more stressed out than us. Ours are easy, if you know what you’re doing,” Frank said, sounding confident. 

“Since when do you know what you’re doing? You’re always lost in class.” 

Frank scoffed. “Since forever? I ask questions and I get good. I’m number one in my class.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, that’s _why_ I was chosen by the Goblet.” Frank sounded like he was seconds away from going _duh._ “Aren’t you?” 

“Nah, I’m pretty ordinary as far as Hogwarts students go.” 

“Really? Huh. Wouldn’t have guessed it.” 

“Yeah, I’m only really outstanding in Herbology. And maybe Transfiguration, but not so much this year.” 

“Well if you’re an ordinary Hogwarts student, then I’m scared to see what the extraordinary ones are like. Oh, here we are.” Frank walked through the gates onto the Quidditch field, Bertie close behind him.  

The pitch had been filled with tall hedges like Frank said, each about a couple dozen feet high. Lamar and Wel stood near a gap in the wall of shrubbery, waiting for the two of them. 

“Hello there boys,” Lamar greeted them. “I’m sure you’re both excited to find out what your next - and last - task will be.” 

They both nodded, though Bertie’s stomach churned slightly as he did so. He’d been feeling a bit more confident after reflecting on the previous tasks a bit, but he was still nervous about competing in the final task. They’d surely have saved the most difficult task for last. 

“Well, it’s exactly what you see here!” Lamar said, gesturing at the shrubbery. 

“Hedges?” Bertie asked, skeptical. After the last two tasks, the dragon in particular, taking on a bunch of trees seemed a bit, well… boring. 

Especially since he was the plant guy. 

“Not just that!” Lamar said. “It’s a maze, filled with all kinds of magical creatures that you will have to do battle with in order to escape and win the tournament!” 

Oh. Well, that was more interesting. 

“Are any of those creatures _dragons_ by any chance?” Frank muttered. 

Lamar laughed. “Nope, no dragons this time! Just your regular, run-of-the-mill magical creatures… And maybe a few surprises thrown in here and there.” 

All three champions groaned and Bertie was surprised to see that even Wel looked like she was completely done with the tournament’s bullshit. She’d been doing so well he hadn’t even stopped to consider whether she was having an easy time with the challenges. He had just assumed she was. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle. The dragons weren’t as bad as you were expecting, were they?” 

“I burnt a quarter of my body!” Bertie said. 

Lamar had the grace to look awkward. “Yes well… You’ll each enter the maze one at a time in the order of the current standings. So that means Ms. Brigade, you’ll enter first, followed by Mr. Hayward and then Mr. Renard. The Triwizard Cup will be placed at the centre of the maze and whoever reaches it first will receive full points! The last two candidates will receive thirty-five and twenty points respectively.” 

Bertie did some quick mental calculations. That meant that Wel was almost guaranteed a victory unless she came in last or did not complete the Task. 

Damn. 

He approached her about it as they were walking back up towards the castle. “So it looks like your victory’s all but guaranteed, huh?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Wel played with one of her braids as they walked. “I could still lose. We have no idea what’s in that maze. It could very well be something that I’m not prepared to fight. Like the horned serpent for example. Did you know that the jewel in its forehead grants it the power of invisibility? You wouldn’t even see it coming. Just suddenly splat! Your entrails are all over the grass.” 

Bertie tried to get rid of that mental image. “Well that’s… interesting.” 

“I know.” There was a small smile on Wel’s face. “Magical creatures are so fascinating, but so misunderstood. Everyone just wants to kill them or use them for their own gain. No one ever really thinks about what they want.” 

“That’s how you were able to get past the dragon?” he said. “You understood how it worked?” 

“Can you ever _truly_ understand a creature like a dragon?” Wel grinned up at him. “But yes, essentially. Just like you beat the second task with that lake monster. You can go far if you know how to work alongside things that aren’t human. And if you don’t, well… What happens to you is to be expected. Splat.” 

Thankfully they had reached the Beauxbatons carriage. “I’ll see you around Bertie,” Wel said. “Good luck preparing for the last task.” 

“You too, Wel. I know you’ll do great.” 

“Taking Divination, are you?” She winked at him. “I always knock it out the the park, just you watch.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Preparing for the final task ended up progressing in much the same way that the preparation for the last two tasks had gone. Lots and lots of spell casting. The only difference was that now there was a lot more research being done, as Etta would ask him about a different magical creature every time she saw him and he would have to give at least one way to get by it. If he gave more than one, he’d get a liquorice wand. 

He had most of them memorized within a week. 

It was also good practice for his NEWTs, because it forced him to think about the practical applications of what he was learning. His score in Astronomy skyrocketed as he began studying how to navigate his way through the maze at night in case he lost his wand and couldn’t perform the four-point spell. 

It felt like no time had passed before the morning of the third task. Bertie spent the day with his friends, trying not to think about how the families of the other two champions had come to visit. That was not something he thought about anymore. Instead, he focused on his friends and their stupid attempts at keeping him distracted. At that particular moment, those antics meant Etta enchanting all of their books to fly around the Room of Requirement as if they were birds. 

Kate ducked to avoid being beaned by Roger’s Alchemy textbook. “I think this is entering dangerous territory, Etta,” she warned. 

Etta was focused on trying to keep the books airborne. “What are you talking about? This is fantastic.” 

Or at least it was until the little Welsh Green model that Bertie had been carrying around in his pocket all year tried to light her Charms textbook on fire. At that point Etta agreed that maybe they should leave the flying to him. 

Bertie lay back across one of the sofas and let out a deep sigh. “What do you think’ll happen tonight?” he asked. 

“I think you’re going to win,” Etta said. 

“If you look at the odds, that isn’t very likely,” Roger said. 

“Let me have this dream,” she whispered. 

Roger rolled his eyes but didn’t try to persuade her otherwise. “I think it’ll go fine,” he said instead. “Probably better than you’re expecting.” 

“You’ll do great, Bertie,” Kate said. “You did a great job in both of the other tasks and you’ve been practicing a lot in the past couple of months.” 

“And you don’t have to rescue anyone this time,” Etta added. “You can just relax and do your best, knowing that whatever happens happens.” 

“He still has to go fast,” Roger pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s not like he’s got a time limit this time.” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s got all the time in the world.” 

“I’m trying to destress him Roger, you should try it sometime. I heard it makes people like you more.” 

Roger chucked a pillow across the room at Etta’s head. There was a soft grunt as it hit its target. “I’m not adding to his stress,” he said before glancing over at Bertie. “Am I?” 

Bertie shrugged. “I don’t think it really makes a difference at this point. It’s good to not be stressing, but it’s also good to be realistic about things.” 

“What do you want to do until it’s time to go then?” 

Bertie sat up, allowing the other boy to sit down before laying back down with his head in his lap. “Just hanging out with you guys is fine. Acting like everything’s normal and nothing’s changed. Like this year’s been no different from any other.” 

Kate laughed. “I think that’s far from the case, Bertie. No matter what, this year was going to be nuts.” 

“Yeah, but for now. Just for an hour or two. We can act like it wasn’t going to be. No NEWTs, no tournament. Just us.” 

Etta leaned back against Roger’s legs. “Sounds nice. Let’s try it.” 

Kate shrugs before sliding over next to Etta. “Worth a shot. Hanging out with you dweebs for a couple of hours isn’t a bad waste of time.” 

“Did you just call us a waste of time?” Roger asked. 

“It was an accident,” Kate said defensively. 

“Suuure it was,” the other three all said in unison. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bertie stared at the entrance to the maze, his stomach twisting and untwisting itself as he listened to Lamar explain the task to the crowd. Frank and Wel stood beside him, both steely-eyed and determined. It looked like they were both just as ready to get the Tournament over with as he was. Wel in particular looked like she was ready to just vault the hedges and get to the cup. She’d probably be sprinting the entire thing to ensure that she didn’t come in last. Oddly enough, Frank seemed a lot more relaxed than her, as though he’d accepted the fact that he probably wouldn’t be winning the Tournament. 

The first whistle blew and Wel ran off into the maze, her dark ponytail streaming out behind her. She took a quick left and then she was gone from view. 

Frank glanced over at Bertie. “Good luck, man.” 

He gave him a small nod. “Yeah, you too. Hopefully there’s no dragons.” 

Frank laughed once before charging into the maze on Lamar’s whistle. 

Bertie got ready to run. Just another sixty seconds and he’d be in the last task. There was no turning back now. It was almost over. Either he won or he lost. It almost didn’t matter to him at this point, he was so anxious to stop being anxious over what was in there. He just wanted it to be over. 

Lamar’s whistle blew and Bertie ran into the maze. As soon as he passed the entrance, the sound from the stands faded away and he was left with only his heavy breathing to keep him company. He took the first right he came to and was met with near darkness. 

Bertie slowed to a walk and pointed his wand ahead of him. “ _Lumos._ ” 

The tip of his wand lit up and he could see a path stretching out in front of him. He started down it slowly, unsure of what was going to happen. Were the branches of the maze about to attack him? Exactly what kind of magical creatures did Lamar mean? Were they hidden? What if he didn’t see them and walked right into one? What was coming? 

After about a minute or so of walking slowly, Bertie figured that the chances of the creatures being hidden were slim enough that running would be worth it. He headed down the next left that he came to, hoping to make his way deeper into the maze. 

He ran for a few minutes, stopping every couple of turns to use a four-point spell to check that he was still going in the right direction. He marked the first dead end he came to with a couple of sticks in an X to ensure that he wouldn’t go back down that way if he had to double back again or got turned around. 

Bertie’s first trial came when he took a left and found himself face-to-face with a dog with a forked tail. A Crup. 

He tried to remember what Etta had said about Crups. Lots of wizards had them as pets but you had to trim the tail so that Muggles wouldn’t notice, what else? Something about hunger, maybe? 

“Oh my god, is this thing going to eat me?” Bertie muttered. He wasn’t sure he could handle another magical creature trying to have him for lunch. 

He broke a branch off of one of the hedges using a severing charm and threw it at the Crup. It snatched up the branch in its mouth and immediately began wolfing it down. Bertie decided not to find out whether or not it was feeling like human flesh today, knocking it out with a quick stunning spell. 

He stepped carefully over the sleeping body of the Crup before sprinting down the path and taking the first three turns he came to. He didn’t particularly feel like learning how Crups took being stunned. 

Bertie chose to stay on that path for a while, as it seemed to be heading towards the centre of the maze, or at least that was what his wand was telling him. It soon came to an end, but not by the usual leafy wall that the rest of the dead ends were. Instead it was a perfectly ordinary brick wall. 

Or was it? Bertie squinted at the wall, trying to notice anything off or strange about it. Nothing. He placed a hand against it. Nothing unusual. Weird. 

He took a step back to see if maybe he would notice something from further away and was glad he did a second later when the wall spontaneously exploded, the blast knocking him off his feet and sending him flying back a couple of meters. 

“Oh my god, Bertie!” Wel cried, running over to him from the other side of the ruined wall. Judging by the wand she had pointed ahead of her when he fell, she was the likely cause of the explosion. 

He groaned. “Some warning next time would be nice.” 

Wel rolled her eyes as she helped him up. “I didn’t know you were standing there. How was I supposed to warn you?” 

“It was a joke,” he said, rubbing his head. “What’s down that way?” 

“Just a dead end and a way back towards the edge of the maze. I think the way forward is behind you.” 

Bertie nodded and the two of them started down the path together in silence. He was tempted to ask Wel what other obstacles she had faced along the way, but figured that it was probably better not to get anxious over nothing. It was unlikely that he’d go back that way anyways. 

They took the first right that they came to together, a straight ahead that Bertie had ignored in favour of turning to put more distance between himself and the Crup, before splitting up at the next crossroads that they came to, Bertie going left while Wel headed right. It was oddly lonely after she left even though the two of them hadn’t spoken much as they traveled. Just having another human presence beside him had been comforting in the emptiness that was the maze. 

Bertie ran through the maze without incident for another five to ten minutes before he came to another large brick wall. This one had a small hole in the centre where a coffee mug sat. He tried casting _bombardo_ at the wall, to see if Wel’s trick would work on this wall as well, but nothing happened. He hesitated before approaching the wall and picking up the coffee mug. 

There was a pulling sensation in his stomach and then all of a sudden the wall was gone. Bertie felt a wave of nausea rising up inside of him and he quickly threw up in the nearby bushes. 

 _A Portkey,_ he thought. _Well that’s just fun._

It looked like he had been transported elsewhere in the maze, meaning that he was now completely and utterly lost. He used the Four-Point spell to figure out which way he was meant to be going, but it didn’t help the lost feeling. Everything was made about a dozen times worse by the fact that he continually had stop and be sick from the nausea that was still churning in his stomach and the shakiness in his legs. 

_I fucking hate Portkeys._

Bertie didn’t feel up to running again for a while. He felt anxiety join the Portkey churning in his stomach as he thought about how far behind he probably was. For all he knew, Wel was almost to the centre of the maze. And Frank… He hadn’t seen Frank at all. There hadn’t been any red sparks yet, so the Dumstrang boy was presumably still in the maze somewhere. Though whether or not he was doing well was another question altogether. 

As though summoned by the mere thought of him, Bertie turned a corner to find Frank standing on the path ahead of him. The other boy was continually walking into a Thestral and swearing at it, which didn’t seem to be pleasing the creature very much. 

Bertie approached him slowly, his legs still shaking from the Portkey. “Frank? What are you doing?” 

Frank turned to look at him. “Bertie! It’s good to see you, man! It’s not me, it’s this stupid maze! It’s not letting me pass! And I _know_ it’s not just a wall because if I put my hand here-“ he waved his arm above the Thestral, “-it goes through just fine! But if I put my hand here-“ he smacked the Thestral in the side a few times, much to its annoyance, “-it’s completely solid! I don’t get it!” 

Bertie couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous Frank looked. He obviously just couldn’t see the Thestral, but it was amusing to watch him all the same. He decided to mess with him a little bit. 

“Gee Frank, I don’t know what your problem is.” Bertie approached the Thestal and gently patted its rear. It stepped off to the side obediently. He walked by it and it stepped back to where it had previously been standing. “I can get by just fine.” 

“Okay, I see what you did there,” Frank said, putting his hands on his hips. A look of stubborn determination came across his face. “There’s a trick to getting past this thing, huh?” 

He tried to pat the same spot Bertie did, but ended up missing the Thestral completely and instead just looked like he was failing at swatting a bug. The Thestral continued to look unamused by his antics. “What the-?!” 

Bertie laughed. “Honestly Frank, what are you doing? That’s not what I did at all.” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, it was more of a poke.” 

“Oh!” Frank poked near the same spot but managed to actually hit the Thestral this time. Unfortunately. 

The Thestral blew a burst of cold air directly in Frank’s face and he cringed. “Ugh, what is that? It smells like death! What is _up_ with this maze, man?!” 

“I don’t know, but I’ve got to get going if I want to beat Wel to the centre!” Bertie patted the Thestral’s rear with a laugh. “See you later, Frank!” 

“Hey man, come on! Help me out here!” Bertie could hear Frank complaining as he jogged off down the path. It would probably take him another minute or two to realize that the Thestral had moved and he could now get past anytime he liked. 

The maze got darker the closer Bertie got to the centre and he was now achingly aware of how close he was to being finished. Wel was probably closing in on the cup and soon all three of them could go back to their regular lives. No more dragons or merpeople or weird walls. Just nice normality. 

With a few new perks that had come from the Tournament, of course. As much as Bertie hated to admit it, there had been a few upsides. Like the fact that getting a job could be easier if his potential future employer had heard of his performance in the Tournament. And there was the fact that he was closer than ever with his friends. Helping somebody fight for their life tended to do that to a friendship. And rescuing your friend from the bottom of a lake was bound to improve any relationship. 

He turned a corner and immediately regretted it when he saw a group of three Fire Crabs on the path ahead of him. “Oh fuck…” 

Bertie had a split second to wonder whether or not running away was a plausible option when the crabs began scuttering towards him. He clutched his wand tightly and pointed it at the first crab. “ _Stupefy!_ ” 

The crab went flipping over onto its back while one of the others shot a stream of fire at Bertie. He dodged it but his sleeve caught fire. He put it out with a blast of water from his wand, getting burnt only slightly, before turning the blast on the crabs. It put out their fires just before they reached Bertie. He knocked out one of them with a stunning spell as the second one began climbing his leg. 

“Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! Get off get _offgetoffgetoff!!_ ” He kicked his leg through the air, hoping to send the crab flying. Instead it dug the spikes of its legs into his skin, causing him to yell in pain. “Son of a _bitch!_ ” 

He severed another branch from the hedges and began trying to pry the crab off. “Get off you stupid, _stupid_ thing!” Tears were springing to his eyes as the crab stared up at him with confused beady black eyes and its spikes dug deeper into Bertie’s flesh. “I do not want to hurt you, but you need to get the _fuck_ off!” 

The crab seemed to get the hint and fell off his leg, landing on its back on the ground. Bertie took off running, limping slightly from the pain in his leg. 

He made two more turns before blue sparks shot up into the sky from the centre of the maze. “Damn it,” he muttered, slowly to a walk. That would be Wel. 

Sure enough, Lamar’s voice boomed out over the maze a few seconds later. “And that’s our first champion reaching the cup! We’ll find out soon enough which champion that was, but first our other two champions must complete the task.” 

Bertie sighed and leaned against the hedges, resting his arm on one of the branches. He hadn’t won, so taking a short breather while his leg bled was okay, right? 

 _No!_ The little Etta in his head spoke up. _You still need to finish the task, Bertrand! You can still beat Frank!_

He sighed and began limping down the path again, going as fast as the pain in his leg would allow him to. It was almost over, he could rest once he had touched the cup. 

What felt like ages later, he turned a corner to see the cup glittering in a clearing at the end of the path, Wel sitting next to it. She stood up when she saw him. “Bertie!” She noticed his leg. “Shit, do you want some help?” 

He gave her a wry smile. “Frank anywhere in sight?” She shook her head. “Then yes please.” 

Wel ran over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, taking some of his weight onto her. “How on earth you manage to continually make the end of your tasks a production, I will _never_ understand.” 

“It’s what I’m good at,” Bertie said as they slowly walked to the clearing together. “Congratulations, by the way.” 

He could hear the smile in her voice. “Thanks. You smell like vomit, by the way.” 

“That’s Portkeys for you.” 

Wel winced as she lowered him onto the ground next to the cup. “You found a Portkey?” 

“Mmhm. Transported me to the opposite side of the maze.” 

“Damn. That’s probably why I beat you here. You have to touch it to make your placement count,” she added. 

Bertie touched the cup and a burst of blue sparks shot up into the air. “And there’s our second champion to the cup!” Lamar announced. “Only one to go!” 

“You’re wrong,” Bertie told Wel. 

“Hm?” 

“You didn’t beat me here because I got caught by a Portkey. You won because you’re the best wizard out of all of us.” 

She smiled at him. “Thanks Bertie. It means a lot.” 

Frank burst out of one of the paths just then, panting hard. “Shit, I can’t believe I came in last!” 

“Hey, at least you don’t smell like vomit like Bertie here,” Wel said. 

“Do you really have to keep bringing that up?” he asked. 

“Yes, it’s really gross. Have a shower when you get back to the castle.” 

“Wait, why does Bertie smell like vomit?” Frank asked as he walked over to the cup. 

“Portkey,” they both said. 

Frank made a face. “Eugh. That’s rough, man.” 

He touched the cup and a final stream of blue sparks shot into the air. 

“And that’s our final champion!” Lamar announced. “Let’s get them out of the maze and get those scores tallied up, shall we?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, after a long shower to get rid of both the vomit smell and the dried blood from his leg, Bertie sat down to a feast with his friends. The idea of House tables had been mostly abandoned for the evening, and the four friends had been thrilled to finally get to eat a meal all together after seven years of school. They were joined by Frank and Wel, as well as Wel’s boyfriend and the friend that she had rescued from the lake. 

“So what do we do now?” Bertie had asked as Wel chattered excitedly to her boyfriend about her plans for the cash she had won from the tournament. By the sounds of it she was going to start her own radio show after she graduated where she would talk about various creepy happenings. 

“You need to study for your NEWTs,” Roger said. “You’re _still_ behind in half your classes.” 

“NEWTs, smewts,” Etta said. “He gets to relax now. He just fought a bunch of Fire Crabs.” 

“Don’t forget about that super scary wall,” Kate added. “That was the true terror of the maze.” 

“The NEWTs are in a _week,_ he can’t relax yet!” Roger said. 

“He’ll be _fine,_ Roger. He’s fought a dragon, do you really think that a bunch of star charts can get the upper hand on him?” Etta said. 

“Hey Bertie, name one constellation.” 

“I dunno, the wolf one?” Bertie said with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Oh my god, how did you even pass your OWLs?” 

“I got really, _really_ lucky.” 

“That seems to be a trend with you, doesn’t it?” 

Bertie grinned and gave him another shrug. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it?” 

“You’re going to crash and burn,” Roger said with a sigh. 

“Oh come on, what happened to believing in him?” Etta said. 

“That was before I realized what a complete dolt he is.” 

“So you believe he can fight a dragon but not that he can pass his NEWTs?” Kate said. 

“Pretty much.” 

“Roger that doesn’t even make sense.” 

Bertie sighed. “Can’t we just… I don’t know, forget about the NEWTs for an evening?” 

“They’re in a week!” Kate and Etta said in mocking tones before Roger got the chance to say anything. He retaliated with a quick kick to both their shins and a grumpy scowl. 

“I hate you both.” 

“No you don’t,” Kate said. 

“You know you’ll miss us after school’s over,” Etta added. 

“Doubtful,” he said. 

“I just realized something,” Bertie said as Etta reached for a dinner roll to chuck at Roger’s head. 

“What?” 

“This is why they never let us eat at the same table before. They knew we’d destroy the Great Hall within a week.” 

“Oh come on Bertie, that’s not fair,” Kate said. 

“It’s not?” Etta asked, frozen mid-aim. 

“Of course it’s not. Bertie and I wouldn’t destroy the Hall. It would just be you two.” 

Bertie laughed as the other two complained loudly. “She’s got a point, you know.” 

“Exactly, that’s why they’re mad. They know it’s true.” 

“We get along sometimes,” Etta protested. 

“Yeah but when was the last time you two made it through a conversation without arguing?” Kate said. At their looks of contemplation she added, “It’s usually not a good sign if you have to think about it.” 

“We’re still better than we were in our first year,” Roger said. 

Etta groaned, embarrassed. “Oh _god,_ anything’s better than our first year.” 

“You two were disasters,” Kate said. “Didn’t you try to feed her to a troll?” 

“Threatened to. I _threatened_ to feed her to a troll. Which was obviously an empty threat because where exactly is an eleven year old going to get a troll?” Roger said. 

“You’re a terrible Hufflepuff,” Etta said, biting into the dinner roll and speaking with her mouth full. “Helga’s probably rolling in her grave.” 

“Okay, nowhere in the song does it say that we’re supposed to be friendly.” 

“It’s implied.” 

“Where?!” 

Bertie met Kate’s eyes across the table and they shared an amused look. Yeah. They were probably going to be stuck here for a while. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @pillowcreeks where I talk about The Bridge a lot and spam the tag


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